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.