Back from The Black Cloudy Weeks
Tired but on my feet and ready to eat the tricks
Days like raindrops I'll never wanted leading the end
Getting ready for goodbyes, again friend
This path told predictible throughout its naughty torturous bends of hell
Is mine to keep never mind the loneliness I fight in orda to say farewell.
11-? ? -2011
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.I would like to translate this poem
This poem seems better when read with an English or Irish accent idk? Another great poem!