Our Imperfect World

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Poetry  |  House: Booksie Classic
I wrote this for yet another school project, and when I shared it with my dad, he asked if I would share it at a local Lions club that he is active in.

Submitted: April 07, 2012

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Submitted: April 07, 2012



Why are there people on the street?

Why do we not always kindly greet?

Why are there children without hope,

Nevermore hanging on to that single strand of rope

Why are there those that we don’t waste our time?

Just pass by and don’t give a single dime?

We should dedicate ourselves to helping others

Afterall, we’re all sisters and brothers, fathers and mothers

I dream of a land of perfection, without an ounce of strife,

Where everyone lives a decent life

A place where everyone is full, can write and read,

Where everyone is given what they need

A world where there is no war or other disgusting things,

A place where justice and liberty truly rings


In this solitary island, no one is afraid to dream

Where individuality and reaching for stars makes everyone beam
On this isolated block of land,

You can make anything out of the grainy sand

In this incorruptible place,

It doesn’t matter your skin color or race

All that people judge you by is your heart and being,

It is a world I pray someday everyone will start seeing


Everyone is there for each other , in times of need

Where prejudism and hatred to caring and love always heed

Everyone does what they must, and even more so

Where everyone is friend, no one a foe

Anything rotten returns back to being ripe,

Where there is nothing over which people can gripe


Unfortuneatly this is not a reality, only a hope,

It is a childish dream I managed to grope

Today there is no spark,

No inspiration to turn on the lights within the pitch-black of dark

Where innocent people are shot,

Where tempers are allowed to run hot

Everything in time becomes an ink blot,

And the fruit of kindness is allowed to rot

I hope to someday somehow change the world

I have many radiant ideas that through my head have swirled

This is an ambitious task absolutely, quite daunting

It’s realizing that this world is unattainable that’s truly haunting

You can grow a garden, but you must take the initiative to begin,

Everyone asks what I mean, with much chagrin

I simply reply you must start by first sowing the first seed

By showing kindness, helping those in the most need

It is an ember we must all stoke,

And towards the path of righteousness we more than point and poke

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