our experience is just that.
and our perceptions? ours alone...
with which we may appreciate,
or only grudgingly condone.
an aperature through which we view
each circumstance of destiny
experienced; - then filter these
through our subjective latitude.
'til we're convinced that
truth is known, and all reality defined.
when, at best, 'tis ours alone,
existing only in our mind.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Solipsism is fun. jk... good job.