Bloody Tomorrow

Someone wiser than I am once said
Humans need adversity to survive
I’ll leave philosophizing to bigger heads
But is that really what we need to thrive?

Why is it that people who’ve never faced a certain thing,
Are the first to say that you’ll be better for dealing with it?
That statement has a disingenuous ring
The whole idea feels like a hollow counterfeit

The rich man says, “Money won’t bring you happiness!”
As he revels luxuriantly in opulence
Why is it that people who enjoy excessiveness,
Are the first ones preaching tolerance?

My simple brain finds it hard to justify billionaires
While others live in abject poverty
I may be naïve about world affairs
But that sounds like a new type of monarchy

CEOs who get paid three hundred percent more
Than the people they employ
One finds it difficult to have “esprit de corps”
When you’re always someone else’s whipping boy

Scraps to the starving can seem like a blessing
It may solve their immediate predicament
But how can mankind say it’s progressing
In such a widely disparate environment

It’s easy to hate when you’re the dominant majority
To have a feeling of God-given entitlement
Flaunting authority and superiority
Every other race becomes merely transient

Religion says ignore your immediate circumstance
You’ll get your reward when you die
I’m not entirely sold on that guidance
I’ll let you guess about why

Work hard, pay your taxes and obey the law
Is the mantra we hear from the wealthy
Sounds really nice, if you’re not starting out poor
Oh, but don’t forget at least you’re healthy

You may think my disillusionment is extreme
That I’ve lost my hold on reality
But even Martin Luther King once had a dream
So pardon my hyperbole

Unfortunately, I have no answers to provide
No easily workable resolution
But if we go on like this, I am terrified
Humanity will have no absolution

We will fail ourselves and our descendants
By maintaining this inequitable status quo
Leaving nothing but war and vengeance
A bleak and bloody tomorrow.

Brian Sankarsingh is an accidental poet who, for many years, was standoffishly embroiled in social and political commentary; and who has now decided to maddeningly scream his message from whatever rooftop he can find. Sankarsingh is the author of two books A Sliver of a Chance, Insights and Observations of a Canadian Immigrant and The Human Condition, The Poet’s Perspective. You can reach him at Read other articles by Brian.