it’s growing awfully cold in here
where we analyze the day-to-day
so detached in our self-interest
we wound others in its pursuit
thinking ourselves better, smarter
in our dispassionate discourse
we criticize those of courage
with no ambition but to blame
amused like some lazy vultures
feeding off of forthright failure
and picking at the bones of heroes
to sustain our own bloated egos
what good fortune that they remain
those few still willing to suffer us
those few still moved by genuine cause
for whom ‘right’ is more than popular
we would starve in here without them
without the warmth of their blood
flowing freshly from our slings and arrows
to thaw this icy atmosphere
one by one they fall away
replaced by some weaker, colder form
what will we do then, when they are gone
leaving us to nothing but our own kind?