I hate this feeling that I get
when no one seems to care.
I hate this feeling that I get
when people stop and stare.
I hate this feeling that I get
when they toussle my hair.
I hate this feeling that I get
when I cannot breathe air.
I think I'm slowly suffocating,
but correct me if I'm wrong.
You honestly could care less,
as long as you hear my song.
You want what I have,
but you do not want me.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
So i was trying to comment on this at like 5 am this morning and i dont think it got thru to you? Still new to this but again like your piece of work if i am correct this is another daily reality for me if its about anxiety? maybe im totally wrong but thats the way it sounds to me. And another quick question. when i post things or submit them does my real name automatically get posted with it? Just wondering if putting an alias after everything is a waste of time? Hope to here from you. I love your stuff -William Morrison-