My worries are weak
Yet pipe dreams for some
I sob over leaks
they sob in wet slums

My roof is above
I’m full when I feed
They don’t eat enough
I’m stuffed as they bleed

Their bullets bone break
They beg for their meals
Their hunger won’t sate
Their fates, soon sealed

Still, I dare complain
While warm, homed, and safe
While they wash blood stains
With drains that drip late

Our savour and scents
And lavish plate stacks  
Their sorrow and cents
Soon spent on scraps

My fears are content
I sleep still each night
I’m scared to present
They’re scared for their life  

But them I can’t free
For them I can’t fight
So I’ll sit with my peace
And keep shutting my eyes