This world is a blight;
Seed after seed,
Seed vs. seed,
Generation after generation.
We procreate;
Our forefathers fought
Against themselves for our rights.
But yet, still, it's so hard
To be and find peace.
The mind plays games,
And they play words.
When others take the gun
And shoot, they aim for the heart.
We weep and block,
Restrict, then thought:
Trust no one.
Who can I trust
When that could be me?
By my friend, my love,
My ex, unknown—
They are bad people
In this life, but is there really
Such a thing when
Good men conjure ...