Sliding the cool blade along his wrist
In this world the only bliss
The blood spills out from his veins
To finish himself he refrains
The feeling of the blood seeping through the wounds
Is no match to the pain he really feels
All he needs is a mother
To pretend
Her lies are the truth
'I assure you, the soars will mend'
But because society
He'll be alone
And everyday
He'll beg and pray
For his mother
To just come home
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem