Speeding and too fast to grasp.
Content and substance.
Quick to get and not long to last.
That which has,
No content or substance.
For one too into a self indulgence.
In and out.
Out to end.
The beginning of a thought.
But lost to fiction.
Not again to find,
Wondering to wander...
Around in one's mind,
Lost to fiction and faked tales.
In and out and out to end,
Content with substance.
Speeding and too fast to grasp.
What is to give a thought to have.
Lost to fiction and faked tales.
And self indulgence that prevails!
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem