You A'Int Got It Bad

So brother you ain’t got it bad, You have no right to be mad, There are children starving to death, And old people struggling for breath, Poor people with no food to eat, Are shot dead in the street. You’re pissed because you had to wait in line, Or your pizza wasn’t delivered on time, The price of fuel has gone sky high, And all you can do is *****, why?! So brother you ain’t got it bad, You have no right to be mad, Elsewhere soldiers are dying for bravery, And young girls are kidnapped and sold into slavery, You throw a fit because you can’t do what you please, While millions are dying of disease. Families are separated, Fathers are de-capitated, Trying to worship, Along with a multitude of hardships. So brother you ain’t got it bad, You have no right to be mad, So the next time you start to *****, Remember in this world you are rich, And quit whining about your woes, Because somewhere a landmine took some toes. Stop being a loudmouth louse, And thank God you have a house, Food and clothes and your health, A job, freedoms, family and friends, a lover and your wealth. You have finished this poem, stop for a moment and pray for those in need.