Soft walls.
Pure in color.
Feathery Softness.
Only one way in and one way out.
One person all alone.
Arms wrapped around.
They hear voices.
They have nightmares.
Locked away from the world.
Emotions left in that pure room.
So stoic and lost.
A living ice statue.
A single room to blame.
One white jacket.
One last emotion.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem