Fame to achieve can not be predicted.
Or can it be claimed without working for it.
Although many who proclaim their success and fame,
Seldom name to acknowledge those who assist...
Placing the pieces together to fit.
Eventually received is an attention one gets,
With a boasting of activities they alone created.
But those unseen behind the scenes,
And actually tolerated being demeaned...
By others who believed them to be 'wannabees',
Connected to get one's fame in place...
While observing an inflated to over-rate ego.
'An ego no longer fed,
Eventually has to produce.
Stealing from another to then embellish it,
Leaves an ego that relishes the doing of this...
Left to produce and alone what it is they have claimed.'
~What do you mean? ~
'Time has a way of providing definition.
And those familiar with a work one claims to have done,
Will sooner or later discover the reality that comes.'
~That's too deep for me to comprehend.~
'One day your eyes will open wide,
To reveal what is not understood.
Life has a way of shining light,
On those whose minds were expected stay blinded.'
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem