When does the chase for perfection begin to then end?
As a sacrificing gone unexpected with a sweat that's done,
Seldom comes to satisfy those efforts tried by someone...
In their attempts meant to please,
Others receiving the benefit from their doing of it.
Yet negligent some can be to outwardly express,
Any sign of appreciation that addresses a thankfulness.
When does the chase for perfection begin to then end?
What makes one continue to sacrifice,
With it perceive others believe the doing is to achieve...
From them moments of attention given.
Even though relentlessly a critiquing becomes the focus,
Of blood appearing on one's sleeve...
As if there is a simplicity of it to leave to be easily noticed.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem