I wake up on my pillow…
Buried deep in my bed.
You wish not to be buried,
In the mountains cold and dead.

I start off my day,
Washing myself first,
Callous with water,
While you die of thirst.

And as I lay around,
Still toying with my sleep,
On full alert all day and night,
With agility you creep.

Wet with anticipation,
To destroy the enemy,
As I shape my life,
You shape history.

Or as I count the stairs to work,
And wipe sweat off my face,
You only count dead bodies,
In blood strewn across the place.

And as I write this verse,
Or people scan this page,
You double up in pain,
That I could never gauge.

We both have dreams,
And we both aspire,
But your dreams are nobler,
And you will rise higher.

So while I earn money,
Like a materialistic defect,
You will shed blood,
And then earn respect.

But if I were given a choice…
To be here or in your shoes,
Cowardice would lure me…
And martyrdom would loose

For I hate to be thinking,
Of your sacrifices like this,
And as long as I can stay blind,
Ignorance is bliss…