He can be the life and soul,
But he’d rather be in a private hole,
One of reflection for him and him alone,
Contemplating personal unknowns,
Of his evolving self so hidden and unplanned,
Complications he’ll never understand,
His demeanour unphased, his persona untrue,
He hates the world and he hates all of you,
Locked away in a torturous abyss,
Never thought he’d be like this,
Just so different and misunderstood,
He’d ask for help, if only he could.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
To me this is a young man undergoing adolescent angst. Or even someone suffering from shizophrenia. Like it, well done.