(Bucharest)

What do you think this poem is about?

sick

i'm sick
of being myself
i'm sick
of my own flesh
i'm sick
of crying everyday
i'm sick
even today
i'm sick
of being alone
i'm sick
of seeing the blood that i own
i'm sick and tired of this madness
this lonesliness
darkness
and selfeshness
i'm sick
just sick
and no one can change that..

Submitted: Friday, March 10, 2006
Edited: Friday, April 06, 2007

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