Sell the people on fear and what they will lose.
Accustomed these people are already...
To some kind of dysfunction of mental disarray.
And being uninformed and out of touch...
Is somewhat like throwing one's mind away.
And relying on embellishments,
Others make up from made up stuff...
Folks love.
And...
That doesn't last.
Not in 'that' lane of road ragers.
Where the people drive themselves 'mad'...
Fast to a fade,
From a sane that seldom came.
And when it did,
Few knew....
Sanity!
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem