The Pessimist In A Poem... Poem by RIC BASTASA

the sickness of humanity
is looking for a cure
and trusting about the herbs of
words
humanity keeps on writing
until it finds the
cure,

there seems to be
nothing,
there is no remedy
on the sickness of our humanity
it begs
nothing is given
it is thirsty and remains
to be one
it is hungry (for love, for compassion
for warmth, and understanding
for food
and shelter and embrace)
and it so remains to
be one
hungry world

there is no cure, its sickness
remains forever
until you come in
to tell the world that it is wrong

you are the savior
of this sickness of humanity
when you cease to be
one of them.