this is not a poem
as has been written on things of triviality
they say
and i change my side of sleeping
the dreams i start to see are too negative
again this is a fit case not to be called a piece of poetry
then i place myself to be accepted as a fool
the ignorant world instantly refuses
and the option of ignoring
they choose instead
leaving no choice for me except
whipping and flogging their pony of follies
now they run and shout
and in wonder eyes they see in aw
who is this man so wise and comes on riding?
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Seeing wonder eyes through amazing composition matters a lot. Wisely penned.10