Digweeds Trousers
New member
I used to think I could make a difference. I used to think I could help. I can't though. Not really.
I give money to charity, to Africa but still people are dying. I give to childline and still children are abused.
I think all the right things, I'm a moral person, and I do care, but just not enough.
I leave work in the evening and head for the station. The weight of the world is on my shoulders. Commission hasn't been paid, pissed too much away at Christmas, and have'nt been to the gym.
Lightng up my fag, I step over a person slumped against a wall, wrapped in an old coat, balaclava covering his face. Shivering. I think its so wrong the governement do so little to help the homeless.
The fiver I drop helps him to his next fix. what's the point? I should pick him up and take him home, feed him, give him a bath, a bed for the night.
But I wont. Ever. I get home and turn on the TV. the news is on. People are dying across the world. I do care, but just not enough. Crack open a can from the fridge, and run a hot bath.
No clean water and lack of food is killing thousands of people a day.........................and I ease myself into the bath. Lovely. It feels good. I feel good and thats important.
Lying back on the couch, full of curry, naan bread and beer the late news comes on. Quick. Turn that off, its just so depressing in the world. I have done my bit. I gave money. Why should I pack up my job and go build a school in africa. I do care............just not enough.
I talk the talk, i say the right things. Poor bastards, poor sods. Look at that, it's terrible. God help them. whose God? Mine? Theirs? Anyones?
I give a bit more cash. A Screwed up tenner in a bucket in the pub, a fiver to the old bird from the Sally Ann. There you go love, keep up the good work. would I help her take the bucket round town on a Friday night? f*** off! It's the weekend and I'm out with mates spending more on one round than would feed someone for a month.
I feel bad. I would do more, I do care...............just not enough. If opinions saved the the world you'd call me Mother f***ing Theresa. But it's action we need. And I'm so busy. I would help. I really would. But it will put me out. It'll mean I'll have to get off my indolent fat arse and do something. And I won't.
But when it's too late, and my cosy flabby world is rocked to the core. You'll see me out there in the rain. Screaming for help, crying out for someone to hear me. I know people do care...........just not enough.
I give money to charity, to Africa but still people are dying. I give to childline and still children are abused.
I think all the right things, I'm a moral person, and I do care, but just not enough.
I leave work in the evening and head for the station. The weight of the world is on my shoulders. Commission hasn't been paid, pissed too much away at Christmas, and have'nt been to the gym.
Lightng up my fag, I step over a person slumped against a wall, wrapped in an old coat, balaclava covering his face. Shivering. I think its so wrong the governement do so little to help the homeless.
The fiver I drop helps him to his next fix. what's the point? I should pick him up and take him home, feed him, give him a bath, a bed for the night.
But I wont. Ever. I get home and turn on the TV. the news is on. People are dying across the world. I do care, but just not enough. Crack open a can from the fridge, and run a hot bath.
No clean water and lack of food is killing thousands of people a day.........................and I ease myself into the bath. Lovely. It feels good. I feel good and thats important.
Lying back on the couch, full of curry, naan bread and beer the late news comes on. Quick. Turn that off, its just so depressing in the world. I have done my bit. I gave money. Why should I pack up my job and go build a school in africa. I do care............just not enough.
I talk the talk, i say the right things. Poor bastards, poor sods. Look at that, it's terrible. God help them. whose God? Mine? Theirs? Anyones?
I give a bit more cash. A Screwed up tenner in a bucket in the pub, a fiver to the old bird from the Sally Ann. There you go love, keep up the good work. would I help her take the bucket round town on a Friday night? f*** off! It's the weekend and I'm out with mates spending more on one round than would feed someone for a month.
I feel bad. I would do more, I do care...............just not enough. If opinions saved the the world you'd call me Mother f***ing Theresa. But it's action we need. And I'm so busy. I would help. I really would. But it will put me out. It'll mean I'll have to get off my indolent fat arse and do something. And I won't.
But when it's too late, and my cosy flabby world is rocked to the core. You'll see me out there in the rain. Screaming for help, crying out for someone to hear me. I know people do care...........just not enough.