Beautiful world?

I keep making the mistake
Of thinking that the world is a beautiful place
That everyone I met with a cute face
Was worthy of a warm friendship chase
Regardless of culture, gender or race.

And as a little child let out from the house
to play in the park,
that I could share all of my candies with
all the kids running circles in the arc.

But could these faces all be covered with masks?
A gnawing question I’ve been meaning to ask.
They appear pretty and spotless,
But inside are hollow cracks that
Exude bitter and ferocious bushwack.

Or perhaps it is my fault
For dissipating pieces of my heart in the dark;
For when the day came,
I could see all walk away,
quick in their tracks

Now my heart is broken and I want its pieces back
To seal the splits and guard it from their insidious attacks
That maybe again, I might find the strength from within
to keep trying to make this world
as beautiful a place as I think it should be.