I used to hurt myself for the
bad causes I’d done to others
and myself. I used to think
it would make things better; at
times it did feel good- but only for a
little moment. And the change I’d get
lost in never at all existed.
I used to like that hurt feeling;
even when sterilising my tools. I had
thought that now I still could – but my
conscience and new being won’t make me.
It just doesn’t live within me. Let my
heart hurt if it be. Let me drown in my
tears and kill my head to sleep. And
let me not exchange them
for useless toil; where what
is ploughed was never ploughed.
Let me hurt and Lord uphold me.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem