In a stupor I write this
Mind fighting for words,
Diluted focus,
misting my mind.
Alcohol,
nor drugs,
lay culprit to this.
Thoughts spinning,
out of control.
Past and future events,
keep me chained here.
Locked in this prison,
the present.
Shrinking from,
this ominous task,
that lies before me.
This merry go round,
in my head,
needs to slow down.
I paid for this ride.
Let me back on! !
I promise I will hold on,
tightly with both hands.
Till next time,
we go round again.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem