One cold winter of many tales,
Trails of blood left in frozen snow,
A family slaughtered by a loved one, forgive me
I turned against god and everything that I cared for most,
Police arrived, candle light, butcher knives, bloody bedposts,
Found staked on the floor soaked in evidence of violence,
Only a teen, sent to spend my final life in an insane asylum,
Some few years have passed, I'm an adult I feel alot better now
But no matter what I say, I tell them that I know they'll never let me out
I rot in this cell, my only world's the one in my head
I hate psycho-therapists, I walk amongst walking dead
Every-single day, peepin' ways to escape
I got to find a way out this place, it's a must, i gotta find a way
I'm pacin' back and forth across this room,
I gotta think of something, man I got to make a move
The day I killed my family in a week or two,
I got to get back out there, I wanna do it again fool
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem