I am not going to follow you,
To feel secure...
In anyone's darkened dungeon.
To feel protected from what?
Life?
Or the light of day?
To then pretend I am feeling safe?
From what?
Your increasing insanity?
No thank you.
I'd rather watch grass grow,
Just to get away from your concept of living.
Than to sit and listen to you...
Complain day in and day out,
About the neighbors!
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem