Conversations and giggles. Bourgeois life.
While people starve and struggle every day.
Some can forget when they haven’t seen eyes.
Tears that glisten hopes and prayers for new days.
Immediate circles alienate.
Close them out when conditions are not met.
Subjects unfamiliar, paths never crossed.
Isolated and empty. One more dies.
Nothing to share when there’s nothing compared.
Alone and outside. Shivering with cold.
Stand by the fire and drink your aged wine.
Chatter and gossip of things that you know.
Everyone else is other. No family.
A solo child. Enchanted circle.
The witches would burn us all at the stake.
Never involved. Only for the lucky.
False serenity. The tidal waves crash.
Destroy the world while only you remain.
Ashes to dust and beyond that is death.
Angels may scream when your lives are left.
Horrid creatures, no somber or sorrow.
Lest the circle may break, live tomorrow.
Self-sustained alien creatures of might.
Nobody will know when you’ve gone away.
Mop up the puddles. Our people’s remains.