Someone begging to be read,
Has an ego to be fed.
Has some insecurity,
About what it is they do.
Do poets really concern themselves...
About how their visions are pursued?
And who critiques?
For a rating to compete?
Where is the depthness in this?
Do true writers persist to enlist readers...
With an agitation seen to exist?
It doesn't seem sincere or authentic at all!
It seems shallow and egotistical.
To call for something to be read...
That lacks content and purpose.
And found to be dull, afterall!
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem