Tonight the starving children are on my mind,
and how I carry on,
as if I'm blind.

The sorrow is not mine to bare,
so I carry on as if they aren't there.

I ***** and moan about a wounded heart,
how someone stole my dues today.
I stuff my mouth with beer and bread,
and a shallow laugh gongs from the hole in my head.

I know those kids are selfish too,
and want to live just like me and you-
so they eat leaves and stones and sticks that don't satisfy,
until they fade away on a dusty floor,
while their mothers cry until they are no more.

I think about the love I have lost,
now I walk on past while I count my costs.
Too much effort in my busy life,
for guilt trips that will wring me dry.

Its cosy here with my petty doings,
meaningless pursuits and incoherent spewing.