Intuitive.
Fixed to the hip,
Like a limb that exists.
And not wasted in debate,
Is any time to nonsense to give.
Not when a feeling like this persists.
One knows they have a purpose,
With little effort with a guessing to expose.
One knows as this purpose continues to grow.
Intuitive?
To do what one is born to do,
And knows?
Is more like a duty imposed at birth.
A duty to do to get done to not refuse,
To excuse its presence or ignore.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem