Horrible experiences
Numb senses, cut off audiences
Create ambiguous ambiences
In settings we hardly understand
Whether we sit down or stand
Pain and strain we endeavor to withstand
In our sorry state
Vultures vying for the estate
They can't hesitate to decapitate
Despite grotesque gushes
Antic ambushes
Brutal brushes in brittle bushes
We navigate in trauma territories we access
On our way to terminate the abcess
In convoluted canvasses of emotions in excess
We dare to challenge
Without a wish to avenge
Losses and tosses of tranquility on the fringe
Where we ruminate for a way out
From spouts in a livid layout
Sensational snouts doubting and pouting at the roundabout
Where in the long run
We laugh, lapping up the fun in a pun
To turn away from worshipping the glory of the gun
As ebullient emotions simmer
Hope slivers swim to a glimmer
Saving our sanity in Summer steamer.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
the solution to the gun problem lies in rhetoric. I like that