The sick lie dying
in temples of pretence,
We worship illusions
in the film show of life.
Being old is an inconvenience.
The conveyor-belt of care
trudges on,
driven by a capitalist machine.
All goes to nothing.
Rich men pray
in the house of God,
but God is not there.
Robots wink
at superhuman inhumanities,
All goes to nothing.
The poet rages at the sun,
sympathy is pretended
with all the insincerity
of a T.V. chat show host.
All goes to nothing.
Where is Compassion?
(by Chris Pitts)