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
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