This world

For hundreds of years, I've been alone, Alone in this cold world, Filled with misery and brutality, With every century that passes by, The world seems to get worse I sit under a tree, Thinking about this world, Will this century be better? Then a figure is seen from a far With every step it took it became clear It came nearer becoming clearer, Gosh! It was a beautiful woman, Her hips swayed as she walked, She looked like a good soul But was her inner self good? A lad walked briskly beside her, Pleading for a coin, To feed himself and mother, The woman angrily looked at him, And spat at his rusty old cup The beautiful woman became ugly, Kicking and spitting at the lad, I couldn't believe that this was the woman I admired, This century was also the same, Maybe this world would never change,