Where is the proof,
That there is a declining quality of life.
Where is the proof,
That minds have been affected...
By a relying on chemical diets.
And where is the proof...
Those depicted to be out of their minds,
Reflect a more accepted time...
Few have been too medically numbed to notice.
Or drugged to promote quick corner purchases.
'Pssst...
Yeah,
You.
How about getting that monkey off your back.
I've got a remedy for that.'
~That's MY SON,
Crack head.~
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I would like to translate this poem