Whether Poet or Artist,
Worker or Manager,
Friend or foe
Our capacity for Evil,
Is out of control,
You can really love someone,
And end up in a hole,
With Poetry that sucks,
And is not good at all!
Our capacity for Evil,
Is sad but not strange,
It's been around,
Since long before,
The Biblical Age,
Remember the brothers
Cain and Abel?
The end of that story,
Did not go so well!
In Trust, we cannot trust,
In Betrayal we Can!
That is the saddest part,
Of man being man!
Loved this excellent philosophical poem of yours! I know what you mean and do subscribe to the inference expressed in the last stanza. 10/10.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Pretty graphic in its extremes and condemnation of human beings, and I know in my rough days I feel the same way so I cannot judge, that last stanza really hits to close for home for my liking, but it is your truth, and I respect it. On my dark days I can agree, with this but, I believe firmly that while their is evil there can be some good. Light and Darkness need one another