Leave Good Behind

It doesn't really matter the colour

Of your blood, if it's made of pink
It doesn't matter if you've valour
Made of bricks, or a mixture of ink  

When you walk away; leave good behind
Many people will hate you for no reason
Be sweet; let them breath love in the wind
Liberate them from hate; life is a prison

You don't have to fight your enemies

Their conscience will judge them anyway
Don't forget those you call families
Life is like airstrip with broken runway

Remember to spread a little cheer
Life is an aircraft with little steer

Author: Mathias Pentaleon