I don't expect anyone to know,
The details of my experiences.
To care as much as I do,
Appreciating why and how...
Being blessed is less what I flaunt.
But the way I feel to express myself.
Done to do the best I can.
And that expression may not be accepted.
By those who believe they can perceive,
They know better than I do...
To qualify themselves to say,
Anything about me to anyone else.
With it to think okay to make it up.
Or assume my life to have lived it,
I had been unconscious.
For every second of my 72 years.
Living in bliss and numbed.
Feeling nothing but complete ecstacy.
That kind of delusion to create,
Even if I could afford it to do...
Would be too late and useless to me,
To prove it now to validate opinions made.
Regardless of how fantastic,
And free of obstacles.
Without a scent of negativity they may be.
Topic(s) of this poem: truth
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.