What life of yours could pay for this false hope?
Lying, screaming, always, always for more
Tightly rolled cigarettes and hot Death smoke
On your hands and knees, you searched on the floor.
Scratch at your eyes and bare your teeth; we know
You know that they really, truly want you
But could it be what you think it is? No.
Tears pour from your eyes; do you feel abused?
Blood met with the hard floor and stole away
As you watched it go, you felt as he must
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.I would like to translate this poem