We are,
born tranquil,
lovely,
innocent,
of course cute too.
We hard know,
plus and minus,
of world,
as well as life.
But when we grow,
we grow,
jealousy,
hatred,
and double stranded,
of life.
We play politics,
with others,
our own people,
and some times,
with ourselves too.
We are born,
to love,
care,
and respect,
nature as well as mankind.
By the way?
who taught us hatred?
Have a deep breath,
and ponder for a second.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
It is the way we deal with the difficult experiences of life which feel absent of love and irreciprocal of what we've given. It is a survival emotion, better than suicide. It is hard to give in to one's hate, but otherwise sometimes the alternative is suicide.