Many are lost in the maze of life
Tangled in its myriad affairs
They follow after the status quo,
The political-correctness air.
Down one path to find a culdesac
Another just leads to God knows where
So, believing to be on one's way
But never seeming to make it there
Mere twists and turns of unending paths
Here, beneath the great ball of fire
Some do manage to exit the maze
Yet many more seem not to acquire.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem