High on hyperbole.
And with a mind of platted chrome.
To sell and bought to the thoughtless,
As if gold.
Bold and extravagant.
Have been the embellishments sold.
Leaving followers believing.
Everything to them told.
Emphatically dramatic.
With an ego floating alone.
In its own Universe done to condone.
And attached are supporters unmatched.
To a madness loved.
Letting it shown to be known.
They find an ease to imitate,
A mind blown away to crave and appreciate.
Gone until it fades.
Truth to disbelieve.
Further as their minds drift.
From reality.
Until it no longer exists.
High they are on hyperbole.
So high with it.
And happy.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem