Why is I take offense,
Of those sitting on a fence...
With a giving of opinion.
And not being in the trenches,
Is my greatest pet peeve.
Those with the loudest voices raised,
Do little to pave their own destiny.
And yet they sit as if deserving,
To be fed to feed off the sweating...
Done by others.
And when asked to assist,
With any experience to boost others...
With a lift.
First from their lips is a complaint.
Followed by a suggestion stolen from a painted picture.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem