The engaging age,
Whether transparent or not.
Gives space and audience,
To the agent provocateur...
Pretending sympathy.
But intends outrage to leave.
With a granting to rant,
From centerstage...
For free publicity.
Persuaded to engage divisions.
Between those who have evaded,
Truth and its honesty.
Appearing laid back,
But packing ammunition used...
To poison minds of the youth,
Learning to organize...
Their disappointments,
No longer hidden to disguise...
Blooming from grassroots.
The agent provocateur enjoys,
Today...
The ease by which they can,
Create realities...
To have people believe...
What they hear and see.
Yet nowhere near appears.
Distant are the facts.
Senseless are these acts.
Listening to comprehend,
Are minds detached.
While cause and reason,
No longer defined to have...
Either purpose or meaning,
Has left crimes against you...
Me,
And all of humanity...
Without evidence,
In this engaging age...
Of insanity.
That we are not those agents,
Employed to provoke it...
With a threatening use,
Of conscious common sense.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem