Man's Treachery

Guest

My first poem in a while. You may criticize it as much as you like.

Men are such treacherous and foul creatures. yet still we are gentle.
Even though our time on this planet has been of great length, we're still infants to the universe.
Naturally, we fear what we don't know, provoke and attack it as if we were mad with jealousy.

Are we truly who we think we are?
Readily prepared to sacrifice what is weaker in order to obtain something stronger.
Even though we think we're making progress, we're merely reclining and repeating history.

Forsaken, Hated, Loved, Appreciated, yes we are all of that.
Other species may rest in the universe's gentle hands greater than we, but we refer to them as Creatures.
Out of pure madness at last we may even call them Inferior, blind to the thing that bounds man from ever reaching his true purpose.
Let us open our eyes, and listen, oh yes listen to everything that is around us but for which we ignore.
Someday man will know his superior and when he meets him, her, or even "it", will he be ready to co-exist with it?