Apathy

   

  You google lavish Porsche sipping Latte,

    plump fingers scrolling fancy images,

      thermostat stuck at a fixed temperature,

        you glower at the assistant for pending checkup,

          awaiting deals of millions to boast with greed.

           Pulse rate soars with flickering prices,

             you yell at my screen, "It sucks!"

      Hold on my friend you really don't know-

        I wish you'd googled the phrase,

       you'd float in oceans of realities

          and know what really sucks.

      A boy who spent his years earning from cremations

         witnessing teary families among pools of churned corpses,

            on morose blue nights with howling wolves

              vultures screeching for food in a desolate barren forest

           would be baffled to hear you whine about your life--

      a word for your ignorance.

          That man in your office spent years slogging for you

            to find an abode for his family, pay his bills and sleep in peace;

              crumbling under your tyranny he passed away last week,

            his family would has never seen such delicate issues--

         a word for your indifference.

        Your own old neighbour evacuated his place yesterday

          sighing under indebted loans, he couldn't afford the lawsuit

            you'd filed against him for creating an old age home

           at the land you'd always wanted; he'd wonder for sure--

      a word for your insensitivity.

        The woman outside your building  wanted a petty job to heal her child

          crying in pain on a Winter night; her wailing sobs unheard by you

            would tell her child to have faith while she watches him slowly die,

          she'd love to mop her anxieties again--

      a word for your insanity.

             They haven't use that word

               they know what really sucks.

          You've signed a deal for millions 

             with those in dictating power

          of weapons, drugs and tools, 

            spewing hazardous venom indeed

          to people in every country,

            you celebrate this victory,

          a masked Red dragon awakens;

              yet when wars are waged

          calamities descend on lands

              diplomats express fake condolences

          you'll join them in charades

             vile progressions to paint in red

         the world with blood-soaked money,

             laughing at those who suffer--

          a word for your monstrosity.

          You keep your fingers crossed and wish for an antidote to cure

            burning lands afar in greed; your thermostat and Porsche

              could save you until then but honey do you ever wonder

                what would you say when flames drape your paradise

                  and you believe it sucks; it really does..