The tainted glass
That once scewed my vision,
Is broken
I see things with perfect clearity
The knife I once used
To cut myself,
I now carry inside of me
It is always cutting
With every swallow,
Every gasp for air
It cuts
My vision is no longer tainted
From the glass
But from the ache,
That spreads from
Within myself
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
i really like this one...it was so true and everything!