Sympathy of the Vultures
There was once a time where I felt that the world
Fell apart.
And all that knew me were but
Vultures, circling and waiting
For me and my loved ones to fall,
To die.
Just to have some satisfaction in their
Boring worlds,
Lives revolving around the pain of others.
For they need pain for their
Shallow,
Pitiful,
Nearly sad lives,
To bring interest to themselves
Through the talk of
The pain of others.
My little brother had fallen
ill,
A sickness no God would
Wish on a child.
And yet, how were they to tell me that they
“Pray for him,
When he asked, at the fledgling age of
Four,
When and if he was to die.
The doctors that saved his life in
Those weeks,
I felt,
Were the only ones that could talk to me of
Perseverance and Hope
For while they gave him life threatening poisons to
Save his life
At the cost of his body,
At least they based their hopes
Upon actions rather than
The obscure sympathy of a vulture.
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