You Piss Me Off!
by Jason Kincade
It irks me when you bemoan your thinning hair and the make of your nose
While brave men and women, carried from battlefields everyday,
Struggle anonymously to cope with stolen limbs and burnt and broken faces.
It irks me when you fret
Over "dowdy" clothes or a wee bitty scratch on your car,
While millions must make do with tattered rags and naked feet.
And it bothers me when, snug in your cozy home, you gripe
Over broken egg yokes and burnt toast,
While millions shiver in the open and have nothing to eat.
It irks me when you bitch
About running low on soda and beer,
While across the pond
Desperate mothers rock parched and shriveled babies and pray for rain,
Then wail, but cannot form a tear, as they watch their children slowly blister and die.
It saddens me that you are so many,
But it disturbs me most that, all too often, you are me.