striving to get to the heavenly gates
when living in this so called hell
everytime i get a little closer
everything burns up in flames
nothing getting in my way except 4 old habbits
smoking my sorrow with a pace
trying to drink the bad memories away
but they only gone 4 a while then they always find away 2 stay
its like living in a prison and not being able 2 get out
then when u call 4 help no one hears u shout
just starring in that dark cloud
not seeing anything in that path
having no sight
but trying to see something that is not there
i have a chance where
it seems like you right ur poem from experience, thats what make it close to the reader. nice work.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Just one more? :) pleeeez.