My best days are behind me.
Don't look cause you won't find me
any place you could before.
I'm balled up in the corner;
standby to call the coroner
cause I can't make it, I can't take it anymore.
Sure there's a reason why I'm here,
but that reason's not so clear.
My mind is it's own cancer -
I don't need this,
don't believe this,
just can't seem to find the answer.
It's all a blur
nothing changes, nothing stays the same.
There are no words,
no written pages, no picture just a frame.
There's no light beyond this tunnel -
just a dark consuming funnel
crushing me, pulling me in.
I stare at my reflection
but there's no obvious connection
to what I see and what's within.
How could I feel so empty?
How could things just fall apart?
I'm staring at my finish line
but still thinking how to start.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
I really like this Jason, particularly no picture just a frame keep on writing... Thank You