Trapped Poem by BlAcCCCCk WeSleY
Trapped
They are waiting for the signal,
then they'll drop.
They are waiting, carefully and fearfully.
No one wants to escape first.
If they do, then it's all their fault.
They are waiting to be punctured, to be hurt,
then they'll drop.
They'll take it as their signal, the special instruction that dictates their move.
IT wants to drop,
I can feel it.
I won't let it.
At least not where they are.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
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5/5/2024 1:09:34 AM # 1.0.0.1119
