Curse my inability to explain,
All the pain of not knowing what to say,
All the time I long to say how I really feel.
Damn these thoughts,
Of times that are passed and yet to come,
Nothing easy to say with my tongue.
Damn these things I long to do,
Cursed are we,
The writing few.
When will it end?
When did it begin?
Yet again classed as a sin.
Happy are the few,
Who don’t have a disease!
That prevents them from truthful expressions.
Damn those few,
For a lifetime and a day,
For they can say what they want to say.
