A constant that produces no content,
Eventually annoys and suffers...
From its own lack of purpose.
And an absence of drive,
Without an 'independent' focus.
An incompetence of it is discovered.
And left unexplored,
It goes ignored.
Just like the space between one's ears.
Sometimes appearing but oft times not!
Tolerated?
Since internal investigations,
May reveal the widespread commonness of it!
And a promise to reveal one embarrassment
At a time...
Has been kept!
This keeps everyone motivated and enthused,
To remain as they have chosen to be!
With support and backing that is familiar,
And recognized!
With a detriment the 'conditioned' can not see.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
i'm still exploring your fascinating works.............what a great write.