A skill to some To me absolutely none Patience has no toll For I have none But yet too many As for the world Does it have any? Why do we say that? The world is nasty place When the world has so much So many and unique beauty We ahw in its grace The power that it holds The sheer strength To destroy And to create To give us nourishment In so many ways But humanity Outshines all... It hales thunder like nature Could only dream of doing We destroy in order to create And destroy again We fill the air with hate That daemon that loves us so We care too much But yet clearly to little We act too late Or simply don't Humanity... Does it care? Does it have any true meaning? Has the race divided? Is it that shallow? Do you care? Waiting... And waiting... Till the end.