I'm sitting here at 8: 45
near the end of my rope.
I don't know why,
but I'm starting to lose hope.
My life is a blur,
and I feel like a ghost.
I know I'll never be 'her'
and I'm not like most.
I just need a friend.
Someone to lean on.
This can't be the end,
but where is the new dawn?
My days are dark.
Depression sets in.
I might as well have swam with a shark
for the cuts on my skin.
Why can't anybody hear my cries?
Why can't they see?
Will someone just ignore the lies,
and finally come stand by me?
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
A dark fantastic poem with a wonderful flow.