Isolated in our luxurious shells, snug as hermit crabs,
not bothered about the topsy-turvy world around,
we go on slurping steaming hot coffee
with a poached egg on a slice of toast.
While the ragpicker hunts for scraps of treasure
in the overflowing, stinky dumpster,
we, the high born inhale the morning air
exhilarated by the crisp, morning breeze teasing the trees,
unfazed by the throttled screams of tethered freedom.
Now and then, easing oneself warily out of the shell,
blinking away the brilliance of the surroundings,
quickly scurrying back as scorpion- life stares nay glares,
its pincers wide open, tail curled over its back.
A huge question mark.
Is it about to strike? Twisting and squirming, we wonder.
Will just a single drop of venom kill us?
In the distance stand the mountains,
faintly glazed with blue and purple.
From the safety of our shells,
we see life walking towards us –
loose-limbed, wobbly, ataxic,
an audacious sneer pasted on its smug face.
But, we the invincible, are safe in our shells, aren’t we?
So, why bother?