The poetry is muse
You can't refuse
It shall flow as ever
It is mental fever
You got to inscribe
And describe
How humanity may suffer without feeling!
It shall always offer willing
The muse is an appetite
It shall ignite from within
You may feel hunger when it approaches
The anger of some sort may reach
You feel the ache when actually it is stopped
You feel when you are really flopped
Readers reject you on conservative thoughts
The real way must then be fought
Stop for a day and think
Where should you actually sink
In thought seas with fresh gems
Or with same old zeal turn
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
A great poem, we all need feeling and humanity.