I don’t know why good people wish
to act as though they’re bad,
and why you see the bad ones fish
for compliments, so glad
to be considered better than
they really are. All blunder
and live a life they do not plan.
Why is this so, I wonder?
Does goodness for the good count less
than badness they esteem,
and if bad people hate the mess
they make why do they seem
unwilling to exchange their roles,
the bad ones with the good,
and aren’t the good ones being fools
by doing what they should?
10/15/97
good and bad is what you say but are you sure its what they do make more poems for me please
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
an acute observation! keep penning =)