Posted November 11, 2012on:
How many aches should I keep with me?
Collect melancholy, bear catastrophes?
For, my pathways are all corkscrewed,
Thorns spreading all alongside the way;
My lips are lamenting sorrowfulness
My heart has heartbreaking pang,
And the spirit is deeply wounded
It’s so much suffocating here,
That, I am short of breath ———;
The pollution here is so colossal
That, I can’t breathe, am fading;
I need fresh air badly to breathe,
In this dense grimy environment
For, it is, but, my necessity ——!