For all my talk of wisdom and of hope,
Don’t take me, please, for just a credulous dope,
A cockeyed optimist naïve to sin
Or to pathology, its natural twin.
I read the news, I study history,
I look into my own heart constantly,
And everywhere I see the harm we do:
Inanity, insanity to rue.
We’re insecure and easily offended,
Like those from whom our species is descended,
And we lash back whenever we’re attacked,
Preferring sweet revenge to peaceful pact.
But still, we can know love and harmony,
The heart of wisdom, hope and charity.
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