Good, Bad and Kind

Good people die so early
But if they survive longer
They become the great men
Making the weak stronger.
 
Bad people live carelessly
But if they die anywhere
They become mere tombs
That fill kind eyes with tear.
 
Kind people cool off surely
The rowdy’s stormy blare
Forgiving all guile and guilty
In their compassionate glare.

Bound by the divine strings
They live by their own nature
Some sing songs of humanity
Some crawl as a tiny creature.