a Cemetary full
of skeletons,
crashing down out my closet,
my very own Hiroshima,
my personal Krakatao,
I seek no pity,
I fear no retribution,
My skeletons,
stripped,
bare to the bone,
there, for everybody to see.
I raise my head,
above the wanton destruction
i have caused,
hope is the one thing
one our side,
hope can be salvaged,
when all else had died.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem