Becoming Less Poem by Unic Cjonr
Becoming Less
Becoming more.
I feel less.
Becoming less.
I want to feel more.
Single suicidal syndrome.
I am roped by the tree.
I have to stand to die.
I wonder if I will be free.
One gift.
One curse.
One voice.
One noise.
Do I really have a choice.
Demons knocking at my door.
My mind is blown.
I am drowning on the floor.
Going closed.
Going blind.
I am alone.
I am out of time.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
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4/23/2024 9:26:24 PM # 1.0.0.1119
