Was I made for this world or for this world to hurt me?
Filled with anger, anxiety, and darkness
I ask myself
WHO AM I?
I sit and suffer.
Sharpness cuts through my body.
Dragging myself through mud and no one aside.
I don't call out for help and ask myself
WHO AM I?
Watching sadness travel in and out.
It has grown to where it stayed.
I'll be asking
WHO I AM not WHO AM I?
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Keep it real girl! You are a very educated and open hearted person if you wrote this poem from a heart and it shows your true colors beyond the surface of visible to others self-you, then I need to say that I'm really sorry for you. You shoot never blame yourself again, just let other things happen to you and after you have learned the lesson simply move on. Or starts everythings over again if you really want that. Some mistakes you can't fixed, but some will be gone until you realise that it was not a big deal actually. I Am proud of you, because you know how to express yourself!