I was so tired of my little life,
so I got this little knife.
I know why my life wasn't nice,
it's because I was cold like ice.
I took the little knife I got,
and used it on this little spot.
Now my life is ended for good,
but it didn't do me any good.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
maybe u need to slice off a piece of life instead of a spot of strife