The lament of the lucky

The pain of the world is seldom seen
the joy and the smiles all around
When you have everything,
suffering seems far away
the worms and the filth
are shunned deep into the ground

The woman crawling on the street,
on dusty fours; oblivious to many
till the eye catches and fear strikes
what if our good luck runs out,
the cup emptied someday?
Must make amends to keep pain at bay
So you hand her a quarter and
heave a sigh of relief,
there, you helped the helpless
would this avert tragedy, the fall?

And when your luck does change,
you curse the world for ignoring your pain
you were good to others, you say,
you never did bad to anyone at all
Did she maybe? Or is it all random,
a turn of the dice, a card game of fate
Maybe your turn will come?
Maybe it won't after all.

Whatever will be will be,
but you still don't see pain at all.
Maybe feel it for a split second,
then gone as if banished in thought,
the cactus fence keeping your garden safe,
what's outside can't come in,
at least for the time being