Looking into space / Searching for an answer. / Can this human race / Get beyond this cancer? / Or is it “me in first place, / Always and like a prancer”? / Will this selfish attitude erase / The noble side of the stance here? /
Will some alien race / One day find we did not care? / That it is only about OUR space / With no desire to share? /
I watch this selfish prancing / And try only to observe. / This deep and destructive dancing / Could be the end of the human herd. /
If someday out in space / Mankind should be among the stars / It will be because this race / First escaped its niggardly bars. /
Sing the truth
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Tagged as novel, poem, salman rushdie, truth, writing