Mine! (continued again)

Some see the glass half empty.
Some see the glass half full.
I don’t find it funny.
I think it’s kind of cruel.
I filled my glass on that table.
I thought you knew the rule.
When you pass my glass,
It’s not yours to drink.
So leave it alone you fool!

The socialist said to share it,
It’s everybody’s glass.
The communist tried to take it,
And fine me with a tax.
The capitalist said to sell it,
Keep the profit for myself.
The stockbroker said invest it,
And multiply my wealth.
A thirsty man just looked my way,
And asked me for a drink.
I told him I had decisions to make,
“Just go find a sink.”

I walked the streets with my glass
And questions in my head:
Drink it now or help the crowd or something else instead?
I thought about the money.
I thought about the poor.
I thought about the taxes.
And then I thought some more.
I thought about my mama,
And what she said to me.
But if I was pissed when she took a drink,
Why would I help thee?

So I turned that glass toward my lips,
And I gulped it all the way down.
I satisfied my thirst,
And then I took a look around.
I saw a little boy,
A cherub for a face,
He looked so dry,
he might just cry,
Then I looked away.
I saw a little girl,
Parched, she seemed to me.
Her lips were cracked,
Then I looked back,
And a vagabond I did see.
He was standing there by the wall,
With his hand just holding it out.
I walked his way
With something to say,
And then I plain passed out.
When I came to, I saw their shoes.
They were all surrounding me.
The girl, the boy and the vagabond,
A pitiful sight all three.
I stood up.
I steadied myself.
I looked them over twice.
I felt so bad I just had
to get a cold drink poured over ice.
Once I drank the second one,
I started to feel okay.
That’s when I headed home.
It had been such a long day.
Now you might think
I should’ve helped,
And that I was just unkind.
But that’s ’cause you don’t understand,
What I have is mine!

Before you get contentious
And call me lots of names,
You might look in the mirror,
And see if there’s any blame,
When you sit in your living room
And watch your big tv,
And ignore all those commercials
To help those in poverty.

I bet you could sacrifice
That expensive real smart phone.
I bet you could drive a cheaper car
And spend less on your home.
I bet you could cut some places
Where you like to spend.
And help and make a difference
For those on the other end.
But you close your eyes.
Don’t want to know
The millions you could feed.
Then sit back,
Shake your head,
And wag your tongue about one like me.
You’re just as bad,
And what’s so sad,
Is you think your doing fine,
As you play your game
It’s just the same:
“What I have is mine!”

Now I ain’t no socialist,
And please don’t paint me red.
If my little rhyme
Upset your mind
That’s all up in your head.
The point I’m making
Through my words
Is just to help us see.
There’s a problem everywhere,
And it’s not just you and me.
We’re all a great deal greedy.
Even the needy want their own:
A brand new house
A brand new car
And one Obama phone.
Some get opportunities,
And some just get no breaks.
Some work their fingers to the bone,
And some get life handed on a plate.
But regardless of your station,
Coming up or going down,
A selfish streak
To heaven wreaks
And makes everybody frown.
But it’s always easier to see it
When you see it over there.
Your sin always looks worse,
In someone else’s chair.

 

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