By the fireplace of personal wellbeing
We are sitting and champing some chips.
We are watching around, but not seeing,
All we do is giving good tips.
And the cold outside is unreal,
Someone’s dying there - it is not us,
We are speaking of bargain and deal
And are passing by them like a bus.
And engulfed into sweetness and sleep,
Real warmth is only outside.
Cold possesses us into our deep,
When for others we no warmth provide.
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