Back off lady dressed in blue.
I know what you want to do.
But you don't get to play that game with me.
No you don't get to cut me till I bleed.
You can't break my heart today.
I will not come out to play.
You still can't play that game with me.
You still can't cut me till I bleed.
I won't roll over and play dead.
You don't get to kick me in the head.
I don't want you to do that till I bleed.
You'll never get to play that game with me.
Won't you please cut me some slack.
And take this knife out of my back.
Why must you always play this game with me?
Why must you always cut me till I bleed?
Why are you just standing there?
Give me some help if you still care.
Guess I'm someone you won't miss.
That's why you let me die like this.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Wow! A good poem; deep and yet so revealing. Does it also explain why you do not comment on other's poems? Read mine - Memory Is A Cheating Thing - Adeline