The Pang of the Middle Class

You look down and see There are lot of people with out proper meal On the street beg children Thousands of people without sanitation And you take a pang In your mind always moves a plan How to develop How to uplift them And you live nearer to them, Just above their rung They look up and see you And call you all the bad names But the crux of the fun is that They all like to be like you middle rich man But the opposite happens When you look up And see those fantastic men Who rides the uppermost rung With wonder you find For you there is no sympathy Rather they look at you frowning down