Some go through life in primal innocence,
With faith in humankind and simple trust,
With naught of malice, wishing good for all
And working, always, not for self alone.
But others center life on narrow self
Or else on just another one or more,
And look on all the rest with veiled contempt,
Suspicion, envy, even spiteful hate.
And there are those who may be in-between,
And so may view themselves as balanced, sane.
And this may be, and most of humankind
Will surely live their lives in such a way.
But there are those, and only in our race,
Whose work consumes them whole, with little left
To show there lived a being there before,
Of woman born, with mortal needs and dues.
And some of these have talents they display
Or destinies they seem to labor through,
And others profit from their work – or not.
And some work selflessly, in servitude.
And only humans have such psychopaths
As murder wantonly, with some in jail
But others living grand in palaces.
And only humans bow, to tyrants, deep.
So dense upon the ground are humans that
We have among us predators and prey –
And much of written history is that
Of how the former ruled the latter kind.
And humans have their saints and ogres too,
And angel beings still are everywhere,
If only one has eyes to see these folk,
Who humbly work for little recompense.
We humans crave each others’ company
But also treasure much our solitude.
And in our times, we see, in this, extremes.
And this perhaps is from pathology.
For surely, we have turned towards insane,
And all around us, this is clearly seen.
So wars – and all the races, right to hell,
Appear as destiny, although it’s us.
But having said all this, I still must say,
That though I've lived for long among my kind,
I yet have much to learn, am puzzled much…
I’ve only learned, for sure, humility.
2013 December 18th, Wed. 5:43 am