Deep within the bowels of foreign wombs we search,
For something.
Anything...
That reveals a familiarity.
An acceptance discovered,
To claim and not reject...
If its presence upsets.
Beginning thoughts that initiate conflict.
With a probing that dissects.
To then attack if not reflecting...
What we are limited to perceive.
And yet...
Deep within the bowels of foreign wombs we search,
For that which expresses on it's own turf...
What it is as it exists with intentions to leave undamaged.
And if it can not be labelled...
We declare war against it.
Until we find it can be recognized to benefit our interests.
At an expense that creates havoc and dismay.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem