Social Plague

There it is, the consequencies of the results The dream of the dawn of evolution, Fraudulence time of reality Being handicap by the morals of lack of dignity. Ideas that engulves the mind of the naive ones. Freedom, all but a joke . Differencies the platform for chaos. So what are the odds for peace? The trend, the looking glass of the soule The need for standard is a grave untold That repetition, all but errors of the past To enslave the waiting man to a new start An eventual need for more She who seats in the middle of them all Nature but the least observed The ages of WIFI to all to serve A world that mimics the round is but a whole to a  reality that drawns Against the skin; that breeze that sings For to see the beauty that breaths Amongst they to whom the least. The looks to which the judgement are based That character that fades in the face to whom it gaze To the beholder of the taste the tungue ready to lay its claims The work that prey on the woman in pain An action that comes from the fake and strays Will dare the society in everyway.                           By Lekene Paul