Hindsight discoveries,
Uncovered to find too late.
Have a way of producing,
New excuses to use made.
But time wasted abusing it,
Is as old as those,
Who refuse to let go...
Of their assumptions.
To continue to worship,
Delusions to validate.
That have no basis.
Yet created to maintain,
A merit to inherit.
Like a habit left to go,
Uninvestigated.
Although after time passes,
Many defend its existence...
As proof of truth.
To have never known of it.
To inspect, accept or deny,
Its value or validity.
But with belated hindsight,
Always there will be those...
Who will say,
They knew about its importance
But living life,
Kept their minds pre-occupied
With necessities.
To keep them prioritized,
As everyday realities...
Deceived,
Have become for them...
Much more reliable.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem