I can't sleep,
Can't cry,
Unable to see,
I can't sing,
Can't scream,
I can't speak except rarely
I can't do anything.
Most of the time i can't even breathe
I hide in my coldness,
only emerging upon deep request,
or when put to slavery.
I can't be me
I can't be true....
I don't seem to exist anymore,
in this place i called home...once
23 May 2008
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
A nice poetic imagination, Jessie. You may like to read my poem, Love and Iust. Thanks