We don't trust a kind person they are always under suspicion, Nobody has been kind to me without any reason, their ulterior motive be some kind. It seems that kindness be An extinct breed indeed. Not a call in which, it is purely for asking of well being, what follows concern, is the real deal. The world has toughen, sharpen each edges, distrust is all time high, cutting up inches You are one of them, I am not putting the blame, I have turned just the same By not trusting everybody, I am just being kind to me.
here i am, once again, knocking at the door of adventure, curious to know what kind of love awaits for me, just to have it collapse and shatter all over my heart, my mind, my thoughts, so my words overspill and my trust in myself becomes extinct.
love is a lifetime of examples of how we can overcome our fears, worries, and doubts. It is invisible but can be seen, it is intangible but can be felt, it is inaudible but you know it when you hear it. at times it can seem to be extinct, and others make you as euphoric as the most powerful drug. in the end it is only you who can choose to let it in, push it away, or accept it
Strang thing called love, none can point to it but it is all around but it is deadly as beautiful
Nothing sadder Than calling for a mate no longer there, Last of a kind Singing into the darkness.
Ousted by the human race; One small light extinguished in a universe Of satellites and jet powered aircraft Metalled roads and all night diners, High rise living, where we even invade The skies to get a better view Of our formidable world, Lighting us into our own oblivion.
So how do you grade The importance of a creature, Not particularly colourful With a dull song, not very loud, That no one will really miss as it shuffles Off the stage of the world, No great eulogy, no curtain call Never an encore To join poor Dodo in the glass cased Museums of what we have destroyed.