Perhaps it is the way,
My observations are spoken...
Which makes them controversial.
With a turning of heads.
But if I see someone choking,
And the air is poluted...
I don't interpret that act,
As someone coughing up their evils.
Something tells me,
Instead...
Standards and values once had,
Are dead.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem