Tired of be last
Tired of being the past
Tired so solving the problems of other
But my tears can never fall on the shoulders of brothers
Tired putting fake smiles
Tired of feeling like my troubles stretch for miles
Tired of having to wait
Whiles watching others behind eating as I hold an empty plate
Tired of fooling myself
Tired of praying for my health
Tired of being tired
Wanting so much for this stress to be expired
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem