Like an ostrich just bury your head in the snow...
'Wait a minute that bird doesn't do that.'
Are you sure?
Are you absolutely certain?
I mean have you ever even seen an ostrich in the snow?
'Well no, but..'
But what?
Tell me then how exactly you know?
Are you a bird expert who has put an ostrich in an environment that it's not native too?
You know that's a cruel thing to do.
'No I'm just telling you that is something they do not do.
'Just listen for once in your life because I think your confused.'
Nah I'm not.
Expressions so old can become stale and rot.
So I'm seeking my own refuge.
A camp of new realities and dimensions.
All each with their own intention.
A deluge of ideas to portray a different existence of each and every day.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem