Those finding themselves annoyed?
Choose to be.
Those with heachaches.
And other aches and pains?
Wouldn't know what they would do,
Without them.
Those complaining on a daily basis?
Have been given too much attention.
And those in the business of others?
Have none of their own.
Leaving those entertained by gossip...
With nothing else to do but that in their lives.
There is just too much varieity.
Too much abundance.
Too much that is available...
For anyone to sit an expect,
A delivery of an accepted life to live!
And...
Confinement is only found defined,
In one's own mind.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem