Poema (o quizás no)

You can´t see, what you don´t see want,
even if that´s in you front, you see don´t,
even on the clear of the moonlight,
even if is your friend in need.

We cannot see, what is in front of us,
when we are focused on other place,
we´re blind to our surrounding world,
when we don´t want to se misery.

Your friend needs a friendly hand over & now,
ze can´t ask for it ´cuz don´t know how,
you must help ze, don´t blind to zirs suffering,
zir wounds are bleeding to death now.

Blindness to our friend´s suffer,
zir is not blind to us, zir is dying,
suffering the unknowing fear,
´cuz noone see what ze sees.

Disease of our time is not to see the suffering,
disease of our time is to look to other places,
for not to see our friend´s hurting grounds.

No longer time will help us to redime,
no longer earth will heal us when die,
no longer we deserve zir respect,
he help ze not, ze died for us.