If there was a bird stray on the streets,
Would you take it home and let it grow its wings?
If there was a man, unbeknownst to you,
Would you take care of him all night long, and even let him in?
Yes, you will say that I know out loud,
But when met with the tragedy, you turn the other way around.
Call me selfish, for I would do the same,
But letting a stranger into my place, that’s an action I would rather not take.
Cruelty and despair fills the heavens before,
Even the homeless, poor, young and old,
Filled with selfish, wicked deeds and faults.
A thing called gratitude left at the fall,
While the story unravels it all.
The kind have to change,
Selfish motives still remain,
Self-protection has only one say:
Ignore the new place and men in a silent whispering way.