Why Bad Things Happen to Good People

Bad things always happen to good people,
As fate sadistically watches through a peephole,
Innocent screams rest on deaf ears weak and feeble,
Fourteen year old Russian girl cringes as that needle,
Stifles desperate cries followed with sighs that bleed just a little,
Warnings arrived a tad too late for me though,
What’s the use when time bides the church steeple,
False truths almost always prove to be lethal.

You expect me to believe in Him,
When the world today is filled to the brim with sin,
When fathers sell daughters to finance drops of gin,
Gangsters toss paisanos into city garbage bins,
Babysitters playfully stab wards with needles and pins,
A friendly old couple murders unsuspecting travelers in a wilderness inn,
Humanity was hung long ago to dry on a clothespin,
Atlas has grown much too old and thin,
Can no longer carry such evils upon his chiseled chin,
And has left Earth doomed on its axis to spin,
Patiently waiting for the end at last to begin.
Will humanity ever get the hint?

Humankind refuses to see ourselves as akin,
To wild beasts who play to win,
Even though every day in the world one sees it fit to slaughter their own kin,
What a world must we live in,
The writing awaits orders from its kingpin,
Nothing to be done from this day herein.

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