Rasping against my mind like a guitar out of tune,
hurting intellect with it's noisy distribution of
inert sounds.
Swallowing hard, the temptation to end it all in
one fell swoop, not caring what happens as long
as I disappear into the next horizon.
(8: 56 a.m. - 1/6/14)
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem