Like an unexpected cut at your backside
You try to dab it with some medication
To prevent it from spreading
But as you move around, trying to heal it
It gets worse, infecting more and more of you
And you're just left, sitting there
Watching yourself be slowly eaten
By a wound that you never thought
Would take over you, faster than a wildfire
Severe as the sun that has forgotten to sleep
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Wow janine I am a fan of your poems