Contentment

It would be so easy to be content,

If we knew what we wanted, and did so with good intent.

The world would lose its cynicism, negligence , and hostility.

Men wouldn’t be misogynists, conceited, because of their virility.

If we could stop awarding the rich with riches we steal from the poor,

And foster development and growth of a nation, show corruption the door.

If we could love pedestrians, not swear at the next vehicle that overhauls us,

We’d stop being murderers, whether we’re in a car, bike , or bus.

If we’d only look at women as our sisters,

We’d all be from the same hood, misses and misters.

If only love was explicable, only if our eyes weren’t blinded,

Only if the wind came blindfolded, unaware of where it glided,

Then every village would breath the same air,

And the same breeze would surge in every lair.

Whether poor or rich, we’d be oblivious,

To conniving secessionists, to the dogma and the bias.

To call ourselves united,  and in every aspect content.

We’d have to be resolute like a soldier, ready to die, and never ready to be bent.