They are against me.
I’m confined not free.
I feel that Spring has never sprung.
This torment should have never begun.
A life never lived.
No gifts I could give.
The pain leaked through and covered me.
But I tried to be all I could be.
No forgiveness left.
Given to the rest.
Everyone’s perfectly in place.
There’s a crooked expression on my face.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem