That which is thought impossible,
Yet kept wished and wanted to get.
Has to override all desires.
With a focus to stay upon it.
Until it becomes,
No longer a wish to want.
Or thought impossible to get.
To know as time passes,
That the mind to use...
Everyone is capable to refuse,
To think of it as an instrument.
For those choosing to remain unconscious.
This to do is also a choice.
However...
The ones awakened,
With it to dawn upon them...
Time has arrived,
To pick that instrument...
A mind they've been given.
Blessed to get.
And stay at it to play,
The way they want.
Wherever and whenever they choose.
Knowing what they have done to do,
Made it possible...
To do it at their best!
And...
Discovered to be found instrumental.
In their lives to prioritize.
They are the ones to eventually realize,
Why some strut with their heads up.
While others seem to walk around,
Looking down.
Refusing to use their own intrument.
Or seeking approval and acceptance,
From those not to know themselves blessed.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem