Not screaming, crying instead,
You try to organize whats in your head.
Realizing that you have never been heard-
You think your life has been absurd.
Voices vanish into the air
And no one ever bothers to care.
Nobody will ever listen to you
Or help you with what you do.
So you piock up the razor, disregarding this place,
And slice deep, throwing everything away.
The fact that you might die
Never crosses your mind.
Blood falls in streams
As you contain all your screams.
Thoughts rush through your head
Before you fall dead.
Now you recieve your peaceful breath
In the last moment before your immient death.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem