Sitting atop a tower, I can’t think for the life of me
Why would I do such lousy things
It isn’t worth it, this life, it isn’t worth it
My mother told me to hold on and keep strong
Eat breakfast, she said, eat breakfast and five
Smaller meals throughout the day
I’ll be cured in no time but I am currently
Dead as I type this. My brainstem appears to be
Functioning but I know better. I know better than
To type or write the same words
Over and over and over again.
I am a man of many things, but
Meaning is not one of them.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem