Sat here on a cold hard floor,
Staring out of the window.
All I see is darkness,
Conveniently, the story of my life.
It’s my thinking phase,
The gluttonous stage,
Purely “me” time,
Sadly, where I pull my life apart.
I examine each part,
Carefully.
That way not missing one thought,
One idea,
Something that JUST COULD make it all different.
This is my inspiration, my life.
It’s different from yours,
It’s individual.
Everyone has a story to tell,
People love to listen.
So….
Tell Away.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem