What happens when you feel dead inside?
Do curl up in a ball and hide?
Do you simply let the tears fall,
Or never cry at all?
Do you make some scars,
Tear some papers apart.
Look down from a cliff,
Shoulders and neck all stiff.
Do you cry out their name?
Hoping it would end, this game?
Do you think about suicide?
And then just let the thought abide,
Next to your bedside.
It sits there all night,
Watching you sleep until the morning light.
Then climbs in your head
And fills your mind with dread.
Here I lie,
As I die,
A slow death
As I grasp for a breath
I regret what I’ve done
But I am always shun
Now I’m dead
As I dropp my head.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
I like the last paragraph so much, the way you feel it's gonna end when you start reading it, very well written poem.