Their words spoken to me
Held me down and drew me
Like a picture minus a thousand words
Stolen secrets those thieves
Passed around and proceed
To pawn away the rest
Of all I have that's good
The hands of time are bound
Like my legs held down
Gasping as I drown
In sweat from all around
Filled to full, less feeling
Staring at the ceiling
The thought to prays appealing
But God's not at work
It's Friday the 13Th I'm thirteen
Exchanged my fries for a sundae
The prize I gained
Was the loss of my whole world
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem