Being confused,
it drives to insanity.
Slowly but endearingly,
trying to figure out,
what's going on.
Driving your insanity,
to more confusion.
So you give up,
trying to fix the confusion.
The confusion of your insanity.
You think whatever,
not worth the waste,
or the time.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem