I sit in my room tring to remeber the lost memories and i came to see the things i see...concidering schizophrenia or imagination to explain the things i cant
still, even then, things dont make since to me....
i sit in my room tring to hang on for the next moment. try not to think of the negativity surrounding. i look out my window and listen to rain pouring down from the roof top. thunder fills the dark skies with a little light as i listen to my radio tring to hear something other then nothin.. im tring to think of what to write next but......nothing..
what to do....what to write but... always i feel so alone. when other times i feel someones there...when no one els feels like that.... i feel so alone.....when im really not...
Well expressed facts in poetic form.A good write.Descriptive.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
nice story! this could be a song, i guess...