What is this,
That has come upon us and comfortably sits.
And...
With a doing in our midst to okay it displayed,
With such an array of infestating ignorance.
And to have it stay as if 'it' is in command.
Has a denial of this become too painful to admit?
Has a tolerance of it laid too long in an unconsciousness?
Or have we, the people, grown too tired to resist?
And that which sits to manifest an overwhelming ignorance,
Offends when mentioned to the ones equipped to defend it.
With whispers wished not to be labelled as nonconformists.
What is this craze and madness permitted,
That has come upon us to comfortably sit...
As if 'it' is in command. And,
Determined it is to make us all accepting,
An epidemic disrespecting with a spreading to infest!
And, with a doing to prove those who are conscious...fools!
Yes! Fools deluded who have chosen to be ruled.
With a love of being deceived...
As long as there are sweet treats provided to comfort.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem