On the outside, I look fine and normal,
But on the inside, I am dieing.
The news just eats at me, feeding off my
Dieing body.
I want to cry, to scream at the world.
Anger is my friend right now, my love.
The pen that I write with, I want to
Break in half. The book, filled with my
Favorite poets' words, Tennyson, I want to
Throw at the wall. I do not want to like, I
Want to hate. I begin to cry and hate is no
Longer here. Anger is no longer wanted. All that's
Left, is Fear.
Great. you keep producing masterpieces. this poem eases through without fault
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
okay, i really like this one, great job