In the bistro on the platter,
Cuisines wait for the gourmet’s flatter,
Lustrous crusts and craving whiffs,
Yet for the neighbor’s morsels senses crib.
Glossy metal embracing bright leather,
Intelligent lights which know when to glimmer,
Robust radials tend to surmount all the cliffs,
Yet the neighbor’s sedan elicits an envious drift.
Captivating smile and locks eager to shimmer,
Eyes twinkle and eyelashes seem to twitter,
Curves divine and ego not so stiff,
Yet patronage to the neighbors’ muse the mind sniffs.
Bemused by the trait once the clergy asked,
Why such trait did Thou impart?
He smiled and said nay not me,
It’s your gratitude which tends to flee.
There are the ones, who walk to work,
Speeding on your way at them you smirk,
There are some, who lead lonely lives,
And you whine about your nagging wives,
There are neighbors, who struggle to make ends meet,
But their existence is not acknowledged by your wit.