The beautiful among us do not have it wasted upon their faces, to be fed upon by lustful eyes, to be faded by the ravaged of time and age. They impart theirs differently,weaving it within their words and actions to enrich minds and hearts,to which time the great destroyer of feebleness, is compelled to aid its greatness through memory.
Throughout human history there is there was an element of untouchability that we applied to our fellow human beings, the belief that certain people were beneath others the fact their mere touch would be polluting. Such a system existed in India through caste, in japan as Burakumin, and often was culturally socially and religiously enforced. While this system was wrong, that is not to say untouchables do not exist. The true untouchable is not born as such, nor made to be. The true untouchable pollutes not with his body but with his mind his surroundings, he who chooses to divide our beautiful humanity, defiles the ideologies of unity to ones of division. The true untouchable is a product of choice, for he who is the one who chooses to hate.
Take a hurricane, a storm that stretches hundreds of miles wreaking destruction its path, Yet in the center lies the eye, a region of uncharacteristic calm unaffected by the havoc that surrounds it. Peculiar how nature allows such a contradiction, yet many a man does not, how they suffer in not allowing themselves to find a measure of peace despite the engulfing difficulties.