To be full of oneself is as near as possible as being full of it...
I just hate people who might brag how better they be, than others.
Why do men put down others? ...
Why can't men be loving brothers?
Do men feel better when they spout off and defame? ...
Why do unjust men defame as blame?
What do'th be man's own game? ...
Why must we to put forward sad shame?
Why must we humiliate someone out in a public forum? ...
Why cannot we practice a proper decorum?
Why must man wish to shed shame? ...
What is man's most evil like game?
Does man normally feed off his fellow man's own sadness? ...
Is it because basically, man is full of badness?
I guess so....
This, i sadly know.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Tis a great tinking humanity poem... but the hopeless sorrowed filled ending, leaves me wanting more... please, please reach deeper for our goodnesses... we have a trove of digestable ones that sustain to nurture the fullness of oneself...