Are you lost in that din? There’s a voice in there
That implores you to listen, that asks you to care
For the beneficiary over the benefits, for the jeopardized smile
Of the one you meant to walk with, to the very last mile.
Are you blinded to your past? Of course, or you’d remember,
How your mother tended to you every frosty December,
She’s reconciled with the distances, but a short call won’t hurt -
‘Conditions Apply’, you say, ‘I must make some money first’.
Did you call yourself secular? Sorry, that sounds lame,
For you assign a scorecard against every known name
That merits us on our choices, on religions and finance-
Conditions apply to your concept of tolerance.