It bothers me

I am a witness to humanity's flaws,

 

The poverty, the sorrow, the unjust cause,

 

And yet, I cannot seem to empathize,

 

With those who struggle and agonize.

 

 

 

I view them as unworthy, unclean,

 

Blaming them for their own misfortune seen,

 

I find their weakness uncomfortable,

 

Their dependency is repulsive and unable.

 

 

 

A young girl exploited a victim of her own,

 

I hold her responsible, her innocence gone,

 

Blaming her parents for their lack of care,

 

Unable to see the injustice, she did bear.

 

 

 

And those with disabilities, a burden to me,

 

I see their dependence as a sign of weakness, you see,

 

Their struggles are merely a spectacle to behold,

 

Their helplessness, a pleasure, a story to be told.

 

 

 

But I am not alone in my disdain,

 

For a world that seems counterfeit, full of pain,

 

A society where selflessness is rare,

 

And those who try to help often met with a glare.

 

 

 

As a species, we are worse than the dogs we deride,

 

Establishing classes, some in squalor, others in pride,

 

Reluctant to break free from societal chains,

 

Seeing ourselves as servants, powerless to make gains.

 

 

 

But what if we acted with decisiveness and might?

 

What if we made an example, and stood for what's right?

 

Perhaps the rage and anger of those in pain,

 

Could dissipate, and a brighter future we could gain.

 

 

 

And yet, it bothers me that I am also a part,

 

Of this flawed humanity, with a broken heart,

 

A victim in some cases, and a culprit in others,

 

Struggling to find the answers to life's wonders.