We live for nothing but tomorrow,
In anticipation of the inevitable impending,
Our faces full of vanity, our souls dwelling in sorrow.
We pray for nothing but bliss,
Our minds clinging on to thoughts of who we used to be,
Dopplegangers of a better part of us, all turned vengeful, all gone amiss.
We are fearful of ever having to perish
And so we try, tiresomely, to hold on to the things that make us force a smile,
The things perceived noble by others, we cherish.
We wreak havoc in this lifetime granted,
Standing steadfastly by pride, prejudice and all sins alike
Committing the illicit with bravado, boasting of the hatred we have planted.
Yet, a part of us can still love, can still be compassionate, and still spurt
Unconditional warmth and caressing concern, on the things we call dear
But we are too blinded to see, too deafened to hear, by the abhorrence that envelops us,
And self-consumed, we discard them too, never stopping to look back when they’re hurt.