Men Think Not

Some think it not the slightest strange to ‘malign’
For those who hasn’t family or a home to define
In saddest of whisperings they boast to the trees
And think it ‘strange’ that leaves return as they please

Indubitably, every action there’s a reaction in kind
Men dish out, what goes around, as if they’re blind
By unfamiliar unknowings we repeat our ancestors’ path
Some dump even their baggage, so that you’ll need a bath

Oprah proved a random act of kindness continues to ripple
Some will show more respect unto a fool than a wise riddle
And God help you if you think, perhaps, out side the box
When people love the familiar, populating as sheepish flocks