The Glass

From inside the window,
I see heaps of dump
The train goes smoothly
while their lives on bump.
Amidst the morass
The contrast surpass
Life is made a farce
Just by the difference of a glass.
The cooled compartments
contradict with the burning sun
While we travel the world
They are in their homes shunned.
Just wilderness and rocks
I see about
sitting on the furry cushion
when I look out
as they meet their fate
at an impasse
When their lives are made a farce
Just by the difference of a glass.
I find it hard
to appreciate the food
when all they have is
fruits in the woods
I amass the blankets
As I feel cold
but all they have
is a bare cloth fold.
Even that is scarce
In this ungrateful world.
Alas!
Where lives are made a farce
Just by the difference of a glass.
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