When people thoughtlessly,
Trash their own streets.
And speak from mouths filled,
With garbage...
I don't want to know or wish to discover,
'Where' their minds are at!
Nor do I desire to know 'why'...
They are socially dysfunctional.
These images were purposely invented.
Too many have latched onto a batch of lies.
If this is the life they have chosen to live...
'Some thing' or someone,
Much more influential than me...
Created a reality for them,
They have found acceptable...
To neglect AND defend as if treasured.
I am just grateful to be blessed,
My treasure chest...
Is not packed with that kind of trapped satisfaction.
Or bestowed with delusions I could not undo.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem