Poetry

Just a handful of contemptible people, you are.
Jeers of mockery; despicable remarks; weak, uncontrollable urges.
That is all there is to the beings that are of the majority;
I do not believe in complete, pure kindness nor angelic innocence.
It is very rare, almost impossible; almost endangered.

The future of humanity not only depends on physical welfare and order,
But the emotional and mental capacity in the spiraling depths of individuality,
Which allows the connection in which ideal bonds and preciousness to come forth,
And shed the light and kindness that heals; allows such imperfect, yet sturdy connections.
It is beginning to lack, however, as many turn to greed and tremendously selfish ideals.

As you age into this world,
You will discover the rose symbolising beauty,
And underneath the folds of the seemingly perfect rose,
You will notice such repulsive filth and shriveled, poisonous petals.

That is merely a part of human nature, concealed somewhere on this globe.
That is what partly defines us, the amazing yet destructive living beings.