A contribution to the statistics.

Of every hundred people
there are fifty two
who know everything better,

insecure with every step-
almost everybody else,

willing to help,
if it doesn't take too long
- forty nine,

kindness personified,
because they can't be anything else
- four, well, maybe five,

capable of admiration without envy
- eighteen, 

living in constant fear,
for somebody or something
- seventy seven,

talented to be happy
- about twenty at best,

individually harmless,
but dangerous  in a crowd
- half for sure,

cruel, 
when circumstances force them
- how many, you don't want to know
not even approximately,

Sensible when it's too late
- not more than
before it's too late,

only desiring things from life
- forty
but I rather be wrong here,

curling up in pain with no light
in the dark
- eighty three,
sooner or later,

deserve pity
ninety nine,

are mortal
- hundred out of a hundred
a number that, for the time being,
doesn't change.