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Brent Kincaid Nov 2015
How can you feel holy
By enjoying the pain of others?
Where is your righteousness
When you deny starving mothers
And brothers and fathers
And sisters and all others
Who need your help the most?
Does it add fat to your roast?
Is compassion some kind of crime?
Does it rob you of a dime
When you have so many millions
And not enough time to spend them?

Your logic is totally illogical!
It’s just short of scatological,
And adds up to the villainy
Of a well-armed sworn enemy.
This abhorrence of equality
Is your standard normality.
It often seems that being smug
Works on you like a kind of drug
That makes you see your neighbor
As nothing more than slave labor.
You who won’t throw dogs a bone
Did you get where you are alone?

How can you feel holy
By enjoying the pain of others?
Where is your righteousness
When you deny starving mothers
And brothers and fathers
And sisters and all others
Who need your help the most?
Does it add fat to your roast?
Is compassion some kind of crime?
Does it rob you of a dime
When you have so many millions
And not enough time to spend them?

You are taking a word such as liberal
And making a synonym for criminal.
You seem to want freedom to choose
As opportunity for religious abuse.
How are these oppressions you do
Good for anyone, not even for you?
For sure it might gain you some gold
That won’t love you when you grow old.
Unless you intend on buying affection
You won’t get much from an election.
The people who will applaud are shallow
If they let the world’s fields lie fallow.

— The End —