Don't despise me fellow man for we
both wear the cloth of humanity.

We're both made up of dirty clay
that shall eventually decay.

I'm flesh and blood, I breathe the air
you breathe; we have much to share.

I grieve, and then my tears show
like yours, when your sorrows grow.

On my bed and yours shall be lying
the syndromes of aging and dying.

Or do you think you're better than I?
Order the sky then as not to cry.