Are all pigs swine?

It's not a cryptic poem. I search and search for a shred of decency in people that have wounded me, this is me examining, for the first time really, that it might not be there at all.

Perhaps I should stop trying to find
The light in the hearts of the darkest of minds

Maybe, perhaps, even if it is there,
It's become muddled up; infected; impaired

And by searching for good among evil, maybe
Rather than healing, it's killing me.

It's killing me.

Reviews

[Ben Barton]

This has been written so well. The word choices, the rhyme, the rhythm - Ron Weasley would call you bloody brilliant. On this evidence, he'd be right.

Keep on writing!

[Country boy183798]

Powerful and sincere. The questions it brings up are very true, and almost impossible to answer too. In the end we just have to choose something to believe.
Wonderful work, keep on writing.

[Sarah Wilson]

Wow! That is powerful. It is simple and truthful. I have wondered the same thing many times. Honestly, I don't think there is an answer that doesn't come in the form of one question; who do I want to be? Do I want to be calloused and jaded or do I want to keep that part of me that loves my fellow human intact, despite the darkness it has shown me in return?

Sorry for the ramble! Love this! It's deep!