More people seem to fake they are mortified.
And more are faking they disbelieve,
The rise of crime.
Around them,
Each day everywhere to see.
More people seem to fake regret,
Of their messes to have left.
And many more,
Choose to sleep.
To leave...
Even more impacted pitiful people,
Addicted...
To rushing to pray on knees.
Mortified,
By their own deeds to do.
And mortified,
By their own consequences....
To pay,
For turning away.
They're mortified,
By these days we live.
And mortified...
With disbelief,
The doing to let done...
Returns for them to see.
They're mortified,
By these days we live.
And mortified...
With disbelief,
The doing to let done...
Returns for them to see,
The deeds they've done to do.
To...
Impact more pitiful people.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem