by The Critic
Read it and you tell me. Yes, I wrote it; just as I heard it in my head.
The mirrors of our souls reflection
Peering back only for us to see.
In a chance moments gaze, or glance
We see for ourselves what we fear
Our eyes dance about the way
Avoiding disturbing sites, apparent everyday
We travel busy streets of life in a trance
Failing to share with those we see along the way
Through our self-absorbed, busy days we trod
All too often caught up in the blogg
Feeding our pedigreed dogs and cats with our precious pence;
Blessed with more cents, than sense.
Not heeding reason, right, or wrong
The days grow longer as others struggle in hunger.
As we shop, wine, and dine,
Ignoring the fact that everything isn't just fine
Think what it is to be so all alone,
Feeling only the emptiness that is always there
Unable to wake from want and disrepair
Thinking we will never face such fare