Poem : Outside the Bubble

On some dark days, I often wonder,
in this beautiful place that I live in,
what did I ever do, to deserve this?
Looking at the bubble that I live in,
this bubble of deception that saves me,
from the horrifying realities of this place,
I often question, what did 'they' do?
Those who were not fortunate enough,
to be in this bubble when the storm came,
they had to drown, while I watched,
helpless, not able to do a single thing.
And those who could do something,
the ones having the power to change lives,
I could not see them, for they were hiding,
behind their own one-way glass bubbles.
I wanted to know, if they feel what I do,
if their conscience lets them sleep,
while the world is awake in agony,
but all I saw, all I heard, was deception.
For if those words of sympathy were true,
wouldn't things be better now?
Or maybe they are not as powerful as I think,
maybe they are helpless in their own way,
and this is what this world around me is;
an inevitable chaos, run by incompetent people.

                               - Sushant Kumar Das