When While Life Winds Wound
We are this human being thing,
a generic label offered vague overture,
we go home alone in our minds,
wondering about the events we precede.
We are this human being phenomena,
we bleed, we sing, we breathe, we notice
everything, yet everyone notices as much.
So how is it then,
we all do the same thing,
we all want the similar outcome,
our objectives seem likely to land
inside a circle of desire we design together.
Then why would someone wish ill upon another,
how is it our society strives on accentuating pain,
what logic creates the sudden urgency to belittle,
how come I cannot figure out how to just be pleased.
Just be pleased,
allow the smile,
engage in the beauty,
recognize the transformation,
for while the world does wind itself tightly around a speculation,
there is that internal spirit, allows you a peace, a reality in peace.