Waking up in the same room, to my lazy routine,
Years hiding from what's outside these brick walls,
I try not to think of my enemies.
If one enters, they do all.
Many deaths lurk, clear and clean,
As if only dirtying hands with my own,
This room serves evidencing.
How far I've abandoned hope.
There's no one beyond imagination.
If one soul could reach and hold me,
Grasp my plight, let it soar,
I'd pass by, you'd see the smile,
See how great sufferers adore.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem