He decided one day to subjugate
his regularly scheduled reality
to a euphoric eccentricity test
an intense labyrinthine trudge
through deep cranial corridors
designed to befuddle sanity
and incite the better part of vanity
to eradicate his boring affectations
and add some zest to his persona.
He failed to recognize that
being true to self is the best remedy
and that neither
boring affectations nor an artificial persona
will increase who we are.
But he had one hell of a time.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem