Wide open at times it seems as if I am being smothered with evil darkness, with know purpose in life.Maybe it's just the line between present, past, or future.Normal abnormal hell who knows.I'll lay in the middle of the field nothing's around here to see my cry's as I scream from the depths of my soul until I can't scream anymore.Looking around all that I see is this wide open world nothing here just me.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem