We all feel it sometime,
but I feel it always,
it’s like eternal pain,
just hoping for a friend,
those Saturdays alone,
thinking that’s my life blown,
crying on my pillow,
should I just die,
then to sleep.
Wake up and have another cry,
put on a brave face,
go into the day acting,
Hoping.
Paul;
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem