Few can placate by folly.
With an appeasing done,
To quench and finalize...
What arises that may disturb.
However...
Those who are comedic,
May succeed temporarily.
But the ones gifted,
With psychiatry as a profession...
May find today,
They have struck the motherlode...
Of unending fortune.
With appointments to have folks laid out,
On leather couches forever.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem