My bed is infested with rats
Probably since I introduced food to the place
Now they bite me and each other
They're stuck in the rat race
I can't turn my head
I've made my bed
Now it's time to strip the sheets before I'm dead
No food, no sheets, no cover
I've gone to live in the wild
I'd rather go cold and hungry than live with rats
(Written: Sometime in 2012)
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
The cause of isolationism.