Seasons change

We live our lives
Among others like our self.
We all want the same things
Whatever makes us happy.
How can we not all
Understand the power of harmony
Will we ever one day
Be able to trust
That the stranger
Is not
An enemy
In this world
Of bountiful fruit
Must so many depart
Before leaving their youth?
Simple conflict
Stupid rules,
Enemies from friends
Can't hide
Can't shoot
What is the solution?
What is the truth?
Or is it just chance,
A chance for a fluke...

Photo : jeschunta