It is hopeful, It is lustful
For it is needful and it is unquenchable
Though it is foolish at the first sight
It came at a great cost to the might
It has intelligence in confusion
Less astute and more disruption
It is the light, an acting guide
But it is written and all do abide
It loves what it shouldn’t
It heeds which it hadn’t
It strives through the grave
Yet it seldom is brave
What is it? The it
That makes every bit
Though mostly skeptical
It sometimes is the most lovable
Poignant at times, irksome
Troubling the peace and warsome
It is an abomination or so its said
But its definition has never bred
It achieved much to cause
Yet it craves for a toss
Going nowhere and everywhere
Leaving traces to beware
Humanity, it came a long way
Holding atrocities and attractions in its bay
What is humanity? An answer
Lies as ink dots on a blank paper
Always changing its color
Shading with its golry and gore!
Should I write 
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