How it felt then.
Cut down and bare.
Only a little green,
Barely visible,
Around edges.
Emptiness.
Hoping for hours to pass.
So slow.
Jack burns.
Smoking hurts.
Trying to feel numb.
Doesn’t work.
Tomorrow’ll be better.
Perhaps.
The original language of this site is English. Please note that translators impact the meaning of the poems.
How it felt then.
Cut down and bare.
Only a little green,
Barely visible,
Around edges.
Emptiness.
Hoping for hours to pass.
So slow.
Jack burns.
Smoking hurts.
Trying to feel numb.
Doesn’t work.
Tomorrow’ll be better.
Perhaps.