Enfolded, more and more tightly.
Boxed up, for a past use
Of compound abuse.
In a vain attempt to hide
From the world, its distrust.
With it, its disgust.
Thoughts' hysterics, a ball of twine
About to unravel
Out from it; pell-mell.
A random incoherence!
A screechy, sobby mess
Futile to suppress.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem