Are we to hope for ourselves,
Or are we destined to hope,
To hope for our children,
Are we living merely to be,
An outlook for humanity,
And such a disdainful world of,
Thieves and murderers,
Can we not hope for ourselves,
For our future for the future of this life,
This existence and this day,
Can we not see for life’s beauty,
That which we use to survive in this life,
This life that seems as though a dash in time,
Or a grain in the hour glass,
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