Those who aspire to achieve heights of mediocrity
Are not to be blamed for these aims they select.
If this is their best they believe they should reflect...
They offer much less,
Than just crowded fast food places to leave
As their legacy!
They leave people like me aging,
Wondering why wanting to achieve our best...
Had been a waste of time their peers will jeer
As obscene gestures from a time
People actually made attempts to use their minds,
For thinking!
And 'worked' with a desire for a quality of life teased...
But nonexistng?
How 'purposterous' can that be?
'It is 'preposterous'...
How absurd were they 'then' in those olden days?
Why on Earth did they struggle like that? '
Exactly!
My exact 'centiments'!
'It's 'sentiments'! '
So you 'feel' me?
You can dig my chatter?
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem