Don't know where he came from or even how he got here
But immediately one thing was perfectly clear
His eyes were special and took it all in with a quick sweep
And though stoic he was, it was also apparent he did also weep
There were tears of joy and tears of sorrow mixed to make his wine
For what he observed was the entire human vine
That was his purpose from high on the hills
He could see clearly that mankind was mostly all frills
No purity of thought did any now seek
Just more ways they could get sicker by ignoring the meek.
I can feel your faith and your anger, I am a stranger to you, as you are to me, we may learn about each other through our writing. The only way each generation learns is through the pains they feel, it's a shame that perrenially they choose to do nothing.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
..............a very nice write.....and yes this is very true.....life is for caring.....