So many 'ifs' existing.
To a twisting plot.
Going on without end.
So many unanswered 'whys'.
Breath taking and dramatized.
With many left uncertain.
As each day goes by.
Yet...
Still to apply,
More denial and disbelief.
Although tears from eyes,
Continue to cry.
With a generous supply of delusion.
While wiping away,
A shocking display of reality.
Without a 'butt' inquisitive enough.
To get up and try to discover.
What it is about life,
That is more preferred and liked.
With it wished and wanted to live,
Kept to keep it fictioned.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem