I see way back,
men who are proud,
with decorated chests, standing piously,
and claiming territories proven by dominance.

But Envy?
No!
Gazing into the eyes of the repressed,
I see fear,
Why can’t there be Love?
Men can be so divine,
or so they think.
More competition it seems…
I Must Be Better, I Must.
It’s a suicide mission,
Enemies are made,
and Brotherhood is Our Only Cure
— Ddm

Reference: http://www.daviddemuth.net/writings/Cure.html