I don’t know what it is no more,
A house, a home, a prison.
I feel trapped, guarded.
Unable to reach out for the daylight,
I so desperately crave.
Days disappear in the palm of my hand.
In fear that I'm alone,
I cry out,
But my cries are never answered.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
sad poem Frankie, our cries are seldom answered, 'days disappear in the palm of my hand'great line hope the New Year brings you peaqce and happiness Bill