this poem is dedicated for all the things
that i do not want to do anymore
like spending sleepless night
on a poem that i am writing
about you
like having more cups of coffee
to my system
that shakes because of too much caffeine
like spending more hours on the computer
surfing for more beautiful images
of a blooming red rose with some dews still
fresh on its petals
like having to chat with you
saying nothing important really except some
lousy words like ' i miss you babe'
' i need to talk to you'
'can i see you tomorrow? '
i hate myself for doing these things
i like to quit and just be simple like everybody's
simpleton or moron or special child
i really hate myself for doing these things that i do not like to do anymore
but what can i do?
i am a slave of my own feelings
my brain is misplaced my eyes no longer the sentinels of my being
my body does not serve its sole purpose of carrying my soul
to the inner peace of my still pond.
what can i do? this poem, yes this poem is so dedicated.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem