The Cycle of Being Better

Why does everyone seem to make it on their own?
Why do I see no one, broken and bruised at all?
In the crowd, he would bleed, screaming, “Someone, please!”
No. I don’t see someone like that – except for this disordered cat.
Two young boys, they throw the poor kit, down in the rushing river.
The cat, it dies. It dies in the hands of those who think it is weak.
Yet aren’t we the same? We humiliate the weak.
Those who are meek, and may not find what they seek,
and we say, “You’re weak and lazy. Get a life. Get a job.
Get up, you fool, go reach your dreams.”
We pressure him to save himself,
And when he sort of does,
He’ll say, “I’m better. I’m changed,
I worked hard- look at the fruit of all I’ve made!
I’m living the life of what I should be,
I was once crap, now its good to be me.”
The cycle goes on, he goes out and says,
to everyone else – be better. Work harder.
Thrive and live like you’re alive.
The next time you see a beggar, I know you’ll think,
He’s just lazy, and foolish and poor
Because of the choices that he’s made.
But, listen, there are times when we can’t really choose.
I wonder if the time will come…when somebody,
yes, somebody, will allow himself to be stepped on by others.
Someone, who’ll admit he’s broken and bruised
He would bleed, screaming, “Someone, please!”
Like the poor old cat who can’t save itself
from those who think you’re weak and they’re better.

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