Hypocrite

I talk to people all day long
About finding meaning in the midst of chaos. 
How to untangle the twists and turns of circumstance
And find some hope in the meaning
There beneath the surface. 
But I've forgotten how to hope for myself. 
I've lost the breadcrumbs leading the way back, 
Or else I've given them all away to others. 

It all feels so hollow and empty. 
I can't even muster any outrage. 
I just rattle around this fucking husk of an existence,
Wondering if maybe someday
Things will turn out the way you said they would. 

When are you going to punish the wicked?
Because all I see is those fuckers thriving. 
When are you going to rescue the needy?
Kids in cages, starving behind blockades,
Immigrants harassed by hateful howler monkeys
In bright red hats. 

But the worst of all is how hard it is 
To keep caring when my brain
Just wants to coast on autopilot. 
I don't have the energy to keep being outraged. 
I don't have the willpower to keep fighting. 

No one feels right. 
Everyone feels wrong. 
Me most of all. 
How can you save me
If I'm not even sure which way to look?

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