It may come to annoy,
The truth as presented.
In the way that it is.
But kept ignored,
To refuse its existence.
Will only become more agitating.
Creating a headache.
Only to admit,
A getting rid of it...
Takes patience to tolerate,
The attention it gets.
As if to demand it given.
With or without consent.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem