Exposed transgressions, digressions...
Shown to those observing,
A variety of flaws, blemishes and other imperfections.
Obvious as they appear,
To be labelled with 'its' and 'isms'.
At least with them admitted and not hidden to hide,
The ones still throwing stones away and outside...
Of once 'owned' but boarded up glass houses,
Seem affixed to a continuance of this!
Even though their creative excuses to make,
Without explanations as to why...
They seem to be stuck in kept delusions made,
In a judgement mode to pass upon those...
Who equally sit in between a truth that exist,
And their dilemmas permitted...
As if the doing of it influences with impressions.
Regardless of their mounting repossessions,
Pretended to be part of their Spring cleaning done.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem