It is a place of routines.
A job daily done.
A town...
Where everything done,
Is known by everyone.
And seasons go and they come.
Changing very little.
Accept for the birth of someone's daughter,
Or son!
Or a crime committed that stuns.
The only ones not aware of them...
Are those who are caught up,
In these same scenes.
Both routine and crime...
Over time,
Have come to be accepted
As commonplace as mustard is on a hotdog.
Or someone drinking a diet beverage,
Expecting to burn off fat sitting on wide hips!
In front of a TV with wishes to be slim and lean!
Many of them are frequently seen.
Like the expectation of holidays.
They come when they do...
But few know what they mean.
Anything that comes along,
With a differentness...
It upsets and it is quickly dismissed.
Or sits ignored.
Until someone is challenged to explore it.
Even though this freshness is best...
Folks in one mindset,
Are like eggs in one nest!
If someone sees a few that are cracked...
Eventually those left with shells unblemished,
Will end up at least equally...
Cracked matched.
To be stacked.
Given some applied insignificance.
Or damaged beyond recognition.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem