There are weird thoughts crawling in my brain,
Waiting to come out as soon as I pick up a pen,
hese thoughts are simple and plain,
Even then I'm trying to keep a restrain,
Because if I put them free it will resurface the pain,
The realization that what goes on in my head is not mundane,
Now you will be thinking I'm as mad as can be,
but I just wanna cherish what I have before I give it out for free,
Right now I may sound like a selfish man,
But so what? ? ? Even this world is inhumane...
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem