Somehow it seems, I knew before,
And called it instinct
Others call it A'priori
You know that little being
Lurking in the shadows
Prompting from time to time.
My crutch of orientation
By way of trafficing symbols
Strapped to a wheelchair of convention
Bridled, without free rein
To run and romp, stride and stomp
Birthed,
Had a beginning
Before I could remember
Or forget
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem