This so concerns [my being].

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    This so concerns [my being].

    Ah, the profanity of those who’ve not seen

    Nor felt

    Nor grasped

    Nor told

     

    How sad, is it not?

    That by means of egocentricity

    Have perceived but nothing of true being

    Yet felt, in their minds, that all is well with them.

     

    To whom do we owe such valor?

     

    No fear has struck them yet.

    This marks their false ‘boldness’

    Does it not?

     

    And if truth be mentioned

    So does ‘brushing off’ begin

    And comfort then regained

     

    Such falseness of content there is.

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    Poetry is what gets lost in translation.

    Robert Frost (1875-1963) American Poet.

    freespirit33’s Poems (9)

    Title Comments Submitted
    Title Comments Submitted
    Profiler 0 05/15/2011
    Obsession: Ana 1 01/30/2011
    Ill of Mind 0 01/27/2011
    This so concerns [my being]. 0 01/17/2011
    Grrrr -_- 0 01/17/2011
    Knowledge Of Itself' 0 01/14/2011
    Uncertainty Itself' Is A Sickness 0 01/13/2011
    Unnoticed Flare 2 01/10/2011
    To Whom It May [not] Concern 0 01/09/2011
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