It can not be anything else,
But what it is as was meant to be.
And those attempting to see it differently,
With accusations made to say...
What is presented does not represent a reality.
And stay they will,
Comforted in stunted fresh denials.
While putting others on trial for defining who they are.
Without charading false pretentions to parade.
Or camouflage in masquerade.
To then become offended by what appears to be clear.
And is bright in broad daylight and is in high definition.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem