Demons of my room collected the bits,
Even they were screaming from the slits
And I keep looking for what it fits,
Nothing define me like deserted spirits
Pardon me, I shall confuse you with my outwit
Surpass the average beyond the limit
Training my mind to be the known legit
Random thoughts, never to be savvy
I dare say matters as fake as thee
Telling a story of others so utterly;
When what's truly mine doesn't attract me
A killer is the one who thinks so insanely,
Can I be a one? A murderer who is so kindly
To be a dim, but a dim with a light-heartedly
I glare at usual, in the corner where I sat
They don't imagine I've demons to laugh at
I come to them, when I'm craving my past
Only they know what I'm blubbering about
Painting my room with shameless act
Walking around it, figuring everything out
Them, is all I became
Becoming who I with isolate
Has turned me into what I hate
The reason why I'm so desolate
It is true! I'm my own slave
Showing my teeth to all,
Then turn my face to the wall
After the blur something has became
Fake! That's all I became
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem