Good is so vague, mixed perceptions, in whom eyes do we decide?
Opinions are not truths nor lies, but an understanding of words written.
Biased by experience of a life lived.
A compass created from a certain environment variables.
Were we loved, were we spoiled, were we abused, were we raped, were we abandoned, were we an outcast, did we have lots of friends?
Who is the man behind it?
What are his motives?
What are his intentions?
What is he trying to accomplish?
We must take what he has to say with grain of salt, not because hes not a 'good guy', but because we don't know the reasons behind the scenes.
An in-depth personality examined.
Feast or famine.
Heaven or hell.
Go ahead ring the bell and exhale.
A calming effect revealed.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem