I am the chief of many headaches.
Few will admit their molestation and infatuation with me.
I thrive on the unbelief that there are other ways than the way most frequently used.
If you would consider other ways, the thunderous pounding to your head would soften.
But at the thought of this you allow vises to grip what little is left.
When there is nothing else to grab, the desired effect is achieved.
There is no room to consider anyway other than my way.
Don't complain about me when you purposely invited me in.
Read this poem in other languages
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
Comments about this poem (Closedmindedness by Timothy Branch )
The Road Not Taken
If You Forget Me
Still I Rise
Edgar Allan Poe
I Know Why The Caged Bird Sings
Stopping by Woods on a Snowy Evening
William Ernest Henley
- NotVery PC, Phil Soar
- Disguise, Aparna Chatterjee
- WHITE: The colour of pride, Mohammed Rakibul Hossain
- Elimination of Stress and Strife in My L.., K J Force
- Philip's Philippines, Richard Thripp
- less, lee fones
- Boven de Mens'lijkheid, Madrason writer
- Sleep To Dream, Arafat Driche
- The curse of poverty, Arafat Driche
- The Statue, Arafat Driche