In the bottom of a closet, tossed aside,
Just another shell who laughs and cries.
I'm staring through a mask,
Hard and cold and standing alone.
I've tried to bleed but there is no blood to be found!
I said my last goodbyes but not yet can I die.
My light has slowly faded, but still they can't be sated.
I'm surrounded by sheep, I just can't sleep.
They fatten themselves on lies, but they always have an alibi.
If only I were more cruel, they would be my tools.
But I'm no so heartless as their mindless self indulgence.
I construct what they cannot comprehend,
So sheep tear it down & push me down the bend.
They worship a golden bull, but I'm not such a fool.
Yet how is it that I can call them fake, when I see things so surreal?
I can barely taste... I can barely feel...
I've lost my mind but still my body loves to reel.
At least I had a mind that was all my own,
Their ideas have to be sown!
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem