The pain,
What do I gain?
I suffer every day,
I feel like I am prey,
Stuck…
Between….
Sick Games….
There’s a burning flame,
It burns within me,
Am I a single army?
There’s a war form within,
I think I have sinned.
I hear the screams,
They make it seen,
We are like blaspheme.
My pain is so immense,
I put up my defense,
I don’t know why I don’t die,
I barely just pass by.
I run and keep running,
Things you can do are stunning,
Blood runs through every vein,
It’s driving me insane.
So I could write a thousand words,
But now I must spread my wings like the birds.
I’m now free form hate,
Knowing help came too late.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem