You do the math.
A selected lifestyle,
Continuing to upset...
The very same people,
Who have chosen that life to accept...
With little done to improve what displeases
Are vocal with their pities weeped.
Never have they been given looks of disrespect,
From those they rejected,
As being less and many steps below them.
No one they dejected,
Felt of themselves better off than the rest.
And if observed,
It would appear those upset...
Direct their eyes upon those who have chosen happiness,
As their common denominator...
Over bling and shiny things to impress.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem