A New Species


So quick to judge they are,
But why
When the only sight they beam
Bears witness not to where beauty rests
But to just the outer layer,
The shell of their own existence.
They cannot deem for just one moment
A life where that shell is cracked
And a new species is born.
A new species that looks the same, but sees differently.
A species that sounds identical, but listens divergently.
A species where death is just that and life is for the living.
A species where they find comfort in all things beautiful.
A species that is able to find themselves
Without the artificial aid of society;
Where their attention is focused
On a power much greater than their own,
Not necessarily that of a God, but maybe in the simplicity of a bird
Or a tree.
But alas, they will not
And not because of Greed,
But because they know not of those layers
Beneath their thin shells of being.
Perhaps a new species has already born
But they're all too transfixed on the future
For even the brightest of them to notice.

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