We, a people, never talk about how we say

“goodmorning” to peers when we enter the classroom

How, when a child is lost in the grocery store,

we take their hand and lead them back to their loved ones

How we light candles in our windows as snow blankets the streets

in hopes of carrying out the tradition of guiding lost travellers to safety

How we ask the fallen biker

Are you alright?

Nowadays, most only notice our faults.

The wars  that   draw    gravestones     across      our       frozen       ground,

but never the peace that was fought for as sweat drenched our brows

Death kidnapping the flower,

but never the gentle balance they share

that shrowds the meadows of pomegranate seeds beneath a layer of ice and snow

We, a people, wonder

what has become of us?

Why are we so marked with depression and worthlessness?

Why do we not carry on with our lives, like a machine pumping gas.

But we are not machines.

We live, we breathe, we laugh, we cry

And then, in the dark of night,

we fade away into nothingness

We must cherish what we have,

these small gestures of kindness

We, a people, must hold on to them

Remember them when we’re at our lowest.

And when we encounter another one of us people,

We must share this compassion with the world.

Why live a life of hate,

When you could spend such a precious snapshot of time

Spreading love.