i've grown weary
of this story
growing
weary
of this frame
oh so weary
of this cosmos
in which I got this name
and I can't remember why I came
I'm fearful for the leaving
can't seem to quit the game
oh how I love this loathsome body
I carry with me night and day
and when I look into the mirror
I see a stranger face
sweet solace sought in speaking
my wearisome refrain
no rest foreseen in sleeping
if I must wake again
in lukewarm purgatory
on waves that toss and strain
in sitcoms just repeating
weary lines and jokes again
and again
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem