Soliloquy

Bouts of hatred sugarcoated with precision
hanging precariously by a thread which
unravels in a world threatened with collision
and warns you as soon as you make the switch
to a life of normalcy like a simple decision
which usually comes into your life to enrich

every known passion associated with man
and each one of his immoral brothers.
What could possibly be more important than
comforting those leaning their heads against their mothers?
It is, therefore, no surprise that all they ever plan
is to loot the riches and leave nothing for the others.

How different are you from your peers?
Do you let them know it’s Christmas when it snows
or have you ever helped wipe their tears?
And when life was so cruel upon them that they froze,
did you give the shirt off your back during those years?
You’re only as old as the love you give to those

who are starved of affection and derive their glow
from the soul which resides inside your steel-caged chest.
Does it hurt your ego to be more giving or does it show
as a sweat-stain upon your ill-tempered vest?
You don’t become poorer if you choose to proffer although
it worries you most at night when you’re distressed.

How often have you thought about the profanities of life
or paused to wonder the ultimacy of this mirth?
How strong would you be when you face the strife
that killed their heart and slew their self-worth?
Does it ever occur to you to take consideration of the knife
that was plunged inside them during the lottery called birth?

Next time let them know it’s Christmas with joy
and spread the festive cheer around in abundance.
Ask them to stand up and join as you rise to enjoy
the gifts of life. Tell them you’re sorry in advance
for the crimes committed by your kind and destroy
the emptiness within you if you can perchance.