Suspicion is a finger too short to reach the itch.
Ambition, burning.
Motivation, reaching.
Desire in perfect and steady aim-
honing in on all that discomfort.
All of these needs are in tact,
usually at this time it is advised to find a unillateral medium-
an impervious, limitless one.
What will happen otherwise,
What will the itch do if left unattended?
Have you ever waited?
It Maddens...
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem