Is too many things
Piling up then sliding
Burying me down in mud
Often, it is knowing
You will be gone soon
And I am all alone
Or it is when crying
Not expecting much
I cannot see any hope
Also, when it is late
And there is no word
To say the truth
The truth about love
That keeps on dying here
Then regrows fast there
Frustration is nobody
Cares nor wish to hear this
But that changes nothing
Then it changes a bit
But it stays around
So, tomorrow I will cry
For my love and my star
Again, will cross my sky
But I will remain trapped
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem