Change the title.
Leave the content unfulfilling.
Call yourself brilliant.
Applaud.
Develop your own audience.
And as long as you keep your taste,
To keep a redundancy in place.
You will always enjoy the sounds of your own clapping.
Feeling what you have done,
Deserves an ovation.
It's the stagnation of what you present,
That has you drugged in a self love...
Too obvious it goes unshared.
But then again...
What is done is based upon whims.
And not with depth reflected.
You have just but a surface...
Thinned by lack of purpose!
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem