We’re mostly the the same,so differences are hard to blame.
Wounds wrapped in pride,will always bleed inside.
Sometimes it does not get better,just by another letter,
Sometimes it’s time to make thunder,really make them wonder.
Because when they know how you feel,they know what they have to heal.

How shallow is a picture,
It really has no soul.
The person beneath is richer,
To know that is the goal.

When the night had no light,
Nature kept the balance right.

As man grows towards the stars,
He feels that all he sees is ours.

Will the fear of a God restrain?
Or will primal instinct just wane?

As we transcend our animal past,
Let’s hope we didn’t grow too fast