Green swirls consume my soul.
Your so much better than me.
You are the fachist's best freind,
I am human. I hate it.
The trees envy 'your type'...
you never need to blossum, time has stopped.
my time moves forward.
I hate you. I hate ME! ! !
As i grip the plastic with my fingers,
my reflection brings closure.
'your not so bad'
my mind is playing tricks.
'chestnuts roasting on an...'
that branch is looking at me!
Ive had 'teemany martoonees'
that church bell forbodes.
Now the song has ended.
That is not the only thing.
'End on a high.'
Red stains the floor, reflected by silver. OOZING GREEN
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
I like it, the loss of the breaking up of rhythm gives a sense that the persona is drunk, i like it