An Indifferent Place

The world is cold, harsh, an indifferent place
Filled to the brim with hatred, and lost souls
Dispersing aimlessly through ragged holes
Torn in the fabric of this empty space
We live in, utterly devoid of grace.
Go out, from the equator to the poles,
And find one decent thing. I have no goals,
No hope of safety, nor of saving face.

The world is filled with pain, cruel and rife
With hard and evil choices. Do fire ants
Taste worse than those vice-presidential rants
About the way I haven't led my life?
Today I went clothes-shopping with my wife.
She looked at everything. She bought some pants.