I see you these days,
Like a barn full of hays,
You seem quite chipper,
Like you are some quipper,
Must be having a blast,
Ignoring all your past,
As I see you on the warpath,
The warpath to livelihood,
And I sit and wonder,
About a terrible blunder,
What happened to my compassion,
Where did my empathy go?
Did I forbade them for good?
For I cannot see your grins,
I cannot hear your wails,
You must be hiding them somewhere,
In between your empty tins,
And your constantly wagging tails.
And then when we meet.
Pouts out your casual greet,
Like you assume everything's fine
And hunky-dory with a shine,
But then you too would also,
Be wondering after seeing,
The same plastic smile on my face,
The one that adores yours with grace.
