What’s the point of living,
when all we’re doing is losing?
What’s the point of losing anymore?
We’ve forgotten how to try,
so lets learn how to die,
as you kill yourself over
and over again.
And give us this day,
our daily bread.
I feel we’ve run out of it.
We’ve been oppressed by our
awe.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem