Save your false tears and shallow platitudes for these:
the dispossessed that walk your streets homeless and lost hands held out for some morsel of change or maybe just a kindly word or a glance of recognition.
Save your false tears and shallow platitudes for these:
emaciated waifs clinging to the tattered robes of their mother flies buzzing round the fetid sores that pock their melancholy faces
Save your false tears and shallow platitudes for these:
pathetic souls that huddle in the rubble of their homes scratching at the ruins in vain hope of finding those lost in the onslaught of Nature's wrath
Save your false tears and shallow platitudes for these:
the lost children who will search in vain for those nurturing hands and soothing words gone in a hail of lead scattered in a blast of revenge to splatter the faces of these innocent ones
Save your false tears and shallow platitudes for these:
your regrets your mistakes your knowledge that you stood by and allowed these assaults on humanity to continue day upon day life upon life
I am dead so will you be and ask yourself now who will weep for you?