Were you not...
Gifted with choices to choose.
And were you not...
Given what it is to refuse.
Were you not...
Happy.
Were you not...
Pleased,
To receive.
Were you not...
Doubting what it is you should do.
Were you not...
Undecided too.
And were you not...
A bit conflicted.
As you sat to give more time to reminisce.
You have a voice.
Did you use it or abuse it.
Did you voice,
Your objectives.
Or did you just complain and whine...
As you left those reasons you found behind.
Were you not...
Gifted with choices to choose.
And were you not...
Given what it is to refuse.
Were you not...
Happy.
Were you not...
Pleased,
To receive.
Like many who take for granted,
The air they breathe.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem