The room was warm <br />and the lights were bright <br />fully clothed in designer clad, <br />I sat at the freshly waxed table <br />planning to write a new poem. <br /> <br />Upstairs my two children <br />slept soundly under orchid <br />and ylang - ylang scented covers. <br />whisked into sleep by warm <br />sweet soothing milk. <br /> <br />Beside me three empty beer cans- <br />The spoils of a privileged birthplace <br />surrounded me. <br /> <br />In my perfect warm house, <br />My appeased pleased mind, <br />was able to feel guilt for the poorer kind..... <br /> <br />...As I sat at the table taking time to <br />perfect the poem. <br />A starving child had died. <br />An Aids ridden child had died. <br />A freezing child had died. <br />A sex slave child had died. <br />A mother, father, son and daughter <br />had been murdered for their home. <br /> <br />It is easy to feel pity for those who are suffering <br />when you have everything. <br />The time, the money, the food the warmth..... <br /> <br />So there I sat sipping my beer, <br />smoking my cigarette, <br />thinking of those that suffer, <br />and what takeaway dinner I should get. <br /> <br />Then My lover called from the next room <br />telling me that 'price dropp T.V' was <br />selling playstations for $45 <br />jumping up I left behind my thoughts of pity <br />and left them to die with another child.<br /><br />Not Long Left<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/rich-thoughts-of-pity-for-the-poor/
