Sometimes
it feels as if
there is some great
masterpiece
somewhere within me
a work of unparalleled importance
a work that, once realized,
will teach the world
some momentous lesson
that it has been searching for
since the very dawn of
human self-awareness
Sometimes
it feels as if
life's only purpose
is the struggle
to locate this
particular work
of monumental importance
and create it
release it
unleash it
before my time on this earth
has expired
And, with every day that goes by
in which I was unable to locate
this masterpiece
the awareness of the finite time
which I have to do so
grows stronger
and I feel the countdown
winding down
and I ache
knowing that with every day that passes
my odds of locating this work
become less and less
And, sometimes I cower with fear
a fear that comes from
knowing
that there is a very real
possibility
that this work
doesn't even exist within me
at all
and never will
Sometimes I feel all of these things,
quite often in fact
Other times I just think
that it would be a truly marvelous
and sorely needed thing
to just receive a simple,
no-frills,
ten-minute
blow-job
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
very true. at least a very sincere poem.