many questions race past minds without pausing.
unanswered and brimming in its glory,
laughing at the feeble people's inability.
love, hate, mindfulness, consideration, gentleness, love.
the unanswerables.
people who lap up everything they have,
feeding desperately at the nectar of the damned,
milking it for all the knowledge they can manipulate and use,
but nothing, nothing can prepare them for the real world.
The world that is real.
not one shaded in the shadows of plastic.
Material needs that are superficially despicable.
people who would gladly step on one another in a race.
A never-ending race that would not even end with death.
looming death.
The shadowy plastic world we live in.
one filled with plastic cards, plastic luxuries, plastic people.
fed and bred to think and walk and feel that way.
plastic, inside and outside.

yet, there would be hope.
hope in places you can steal a glimmer of,
like a forbidden treasure hidden deep within,
deep in the forest of knowledge.
only those who can reason and see morality for what it is,
would hold hope and know it for what it is.
These are real.
Real people.
Hope that drives the inner soul rather then external ugliness.
Belief.