you are not immune,
your blind spots will prevail -
the evil's out to get us,
hook, thorn, lie and trail

'I'm not the problem,' you say with pride,
to anyone who listens -
but while you turn your back to them,
they're pulling out munitions

'I don't think there's an issue,'
you declare without a search -
it's easy to miss the war
from up there on that perch

'these people just complain too much,'
you moan and whinge and spout -
how lucky you are to live a life
with little to grumble about

'supports are good, I guess,
but some people are just bludging,'
when all this push comes to shove,
it's you that we'll be judging

look within, think for yourself,
you've been far too susceptible
in ignorance you may feel bliss,
but disregard proves unacceptable