Whose fault was it anyway?

Whose fault was it anyway?

                                             

Whose fault was it anyway?

They said at a parley,

To discuss the fate,

Of the less fortunate.

Anger surged on the outside,

Of the fortunate sitting inside,

Arguing over the issue,

While saying, “please pass the tissue”.

Tissue to daintily wipe,

The mouth after devouring fruits so ripe,

While not so far from this superficial grumble,

Empty stomachs did rumble.

Rumbling stomachs slept on the tracks so cold,

“Help will come”, they were told,

By the Lord! It did arrive,

And eased them of the burden to survive.