Welfare of others

If we possess a selfish mentality A kind of perplexity that binds benevolence somewhere internal. It could be these things All opposing in arguments and disagreements; rapacious obligations one recollect after the subsequent intemperate facade of discourse. Speaking unconsciously, we seek the erect satisfaction or nudge of fictitious dreams we dreamt necessary in acceptance to wander lazily. This would tremor the shaky foundation one once thought to be still. If life had lured an illuminated fear of solitude into an already still being, would we so graphically hold fast to fear or loneliness at the brink of its fascism. Is it possible that it would it erode with time? Every tear we find potent in obliteration drips down our souls as chains shackled to our ankles. And we above all feel the opaque. The paradox of selfishly getting theirs first while others inceptions has yet begun are mangled in the infidel subjects of humanity. if we were all plants somewhere off in green and blue the water would barely touched the grown; and we would only taste the leaves of trees who's succulent took away from the lower class, the true roots of survival. And so this secluded fissure decadent human law. . When, my friends, will their resonant sigh of anguish delineate the prostrate face of those who have and never give? When will we align ourselves with the postulate fact that we can make a change? Instead of wondering how, wonder when. Wonder how long.