not me.
every word i see
i feel validated.
and with every drink
i feel the fight.
fist raised in the air,
ive come to fight.
can you stand with me?
will you be at my side
or in front?
will this ever end.
only one way out
is all i see.
but i will carry on looking for
something.
something more.
i'll die trying.
you'll die laughing.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem