Frail little dead things...
Feet don't fail me now,
Crossed the line and folded flat,
slowly set to drown.
Precious little scarred things...
Hands are shutting down,
Paralysis from sight of mind,
Poisoned at the loss of sound.
Discarded little people...
Ego let me down,
Had the notion i belonged,
Took your hand... so bound...
Lost my footing...
Trailed away...
Swallowed into sallowed ground
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem