As if I knew how
I have lost my touch
Do not have the Love to write anymore
I can not rhyme worth a whatsoever
I figured I'd bring myself down
joining the rest of the bunch
It's not the same as before of course
really don't want to start over
If I painted a picture of my work, it'd look like a clown
To say, there never really was much
To write, didn't take long for my hands to become sore
To read, just stop now, doesn't get any better
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem