Buried myself today
a ghost of past, someone of whom existence is fading
with time, realizing It's for the best
burried myself with content
with irony I take life
knowing how small are you and I
still things ahead I think I could enoy
playful bliss of morning lips and
who knows, maybe a funeral or two
before I lay my linen sheets
so I buried myself
deep below
in a coffin of glass
sing me a swan song
and 'll be gone
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem