Amid liberty we’re seated...

In our fine portion of fortune...

The world suffocates, yet still...

Convenience tucks us under a blanket of silence

blindfolded to poverty lines,

War and land mines, Murder, rape, torture, violence

We seem to hide away our hearts

Compassion is a commodity

A pink, yellow, green ribbon

Injustice is a breach of consumer rights!

Dignity is, bought and sold,

Struggle is marketed, Addressed on a current affairs,

only suitable stories are told,

our Media

its mental abuse;

fiction, forced down our throats.

like rape victims,

we let it slide to ease the pain

Ignorance is the first train - out

when life goes against the grain

fallacies are circulated, Regurgitated,

by coffee shop revolutionaries...

sipping lattes 

using big words,

proposing untested theories,

about the world and its problems,

Hoping, fair-trade coffee purchases, can solve’em

we sit and chat for hours

Speaking of starved children

On beer, steak, and pancake towers

While 1000 famished kids,

perish within that very hour

Opinions without knowledge,

debates without direction,

Intention without resolve,

A Fairy-dusted Convention

of comfortable lefties

Sitting at that self-indulgent intersection

Someone could fart

and it’s enough distraction,

to set us back on track

comparing our clothing rack...

Our self poise and pride is just,

an extension of a mention... it can only go so far

A persona decoration,

which makes us seem so moral,

in ego filled conversations

A self-righteous form of passion,

temporary,

reaching for personal glory,

and only when it falls in fashion

Billions of compelled voices,

deeply choked in lavish choices..

The luxury is just so good,

that we pay to see a brother from some hood

at some concert

talking about where he parks his dick

But we hesitate and ponder

when it comes to giving something to feed a kid...

this is spiritual misfit,

owed to a curse of comfort...