my heart is hanged,
my eyes have bled,
my life is as good as dead,
harder and harder,
I tell the cab driver,
he shakes his head no and turns,
he says to look out the window,
he says there are valleys,
rolling hills,
sunlit air,
I see flames,
fire,
buring,
screaming,
hurting,
everywhere,
he says have a nice day,
I choose no reply,
he watches as I leave,
watches me die,
watches me turn to the street ahead,
watches me,
as good as dead
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
A fantastic poem, really like it.