How you made my life,
A fighting struggle.I past
my time fighting demons.
Holding them down from
deep down, As I grow colder
and colder, A piture comes
to mind of memories of you.
How it all felt when, I
knelt in front of you
begging to stop,
But all there was,
was just another
pop; ; ;
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Search 'Botched Execution' a responce to that pop. Joe Corbett