Stiff like a tree
Branches looming over,
covering their meekness with darkness
decending over their confidence as my ego grows
I give a wry smile
But I die inside
Hollow to the core
unlike an oak I see in their eyes
cut me down
oh cut me down
make me into a chair
to sit pretty in this room and not distract the world from nicety
cut me down
oh cut me down
burn out the fire that grows inside
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem