In a moral world,
With ideal and just people,
Malice would not exist,
Humankind would be viewed
As equal.
Selfishness, corruption, murder, war,
We would speak these words no more.
Pain, worry, depression, isolation,
Each of these words would carry a solution.
But in a basket of apples
Lies one bad seed,
In a bed filled with flowers
is one surly weed,
Until this is engraved
Into their heads,
Our rose tinted glasses
will be shadowed with red.
