It could be any of us, anyone at all.
Sitting on the bed surrounded by four white walls.
So plain is the room, so void of life,
Like the eyes of the patient who will not sleep here tonight.
Her laugh rolls around it, as mad as the hatters.
As she talks about things that don't matter.
It could be me trappen in this place of constant misery.
Had my life turned out just a little bit differently.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem