The chosen few

Why must it be the pennies and the pounds

From which I suffer so in my best years?

Why must they take over where I fall,

Finding tissues, to wipe away the tears?

--

There must be more for me to see afar

Like football, beaches, sun and surf and sand

There must be more than just an empty jar

Like desire, romance, laughter and your hand.

--

Am I a part of this tumultuous craze

That brings with it a sense of misery?

Is my life really all that bad event

Or is it distorted by your company?

--

There are many, worse off than I would be

And some in need of nourishment and care

Away, be gone from their own misery

With which I can do nothing if not there.

--

Enjoy the view the world has given us,

Be sorrowful for those who go without,

Show empathy for the chosen few

And smile at the thought of helping out.