Instant Gratification Poem by Katherine H. Belle

All of this whimsical nonsence you speak of
It conufses me and angers me to no end

How can you sit there and say these things
When children die every day

When homes are destroyed
And lives are forgotten

When war is at no end
and Death seems to climb

How can you sit there and say that life is good
that life is grand

When every day life seems to lessen and lessen

You can sit there with your fat little sausage fingers
Groping for a french frie in your childs happy meal

Or you can do something about it
And make life the winner

But we both know
the latter is less convenient.

go plant a tree for your instant gratification
i hope it withers up and dies