Some people want death,
But then realize,
At their final breath,
This isn't what I wanted
Death comes in forms,
You can't describe,
Even if you swore,
You still want to die,
That or even cry
I made a promise,
That I wouldn't cause my death,
But with every breath,
I still come closer
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem