Men speak of war, of conflict and racial strife
Of heartaches in abundance all the infirmities of life.
But the tounge is silent, no nothing can be heard
About he who helps his neighbor with a kind, considerate word.
Men speak of corruption, of folly and disease
Of stealing and killing and all the evil that one sees,
But when it comes to kindness not a word of it is spoken
As though kindness is nothing, a mere gesture, a mere token.
Men speak of gloom and doom-of the ending of the world
Of turbulence and misery, of an evil flag unfurled,
But does one speak of love, of beauty and devotion?