We Who Are Miserable

Unbeknownst to my personality, my facial expressions are more sullen than they ought to be,
The mirror often shows things that I don't want to see,

Though I can't really say that with any conviction, no foundation can support my morals,
Reality is distorted, filled with fluctuating colors, kaleidoscope floral,

And yet there's a little child somewhere in the world who'd enjoy every bit of my depression,
I complain about trivialities like money, status, and social repression,

I'm horrid because I'm privileged and there isn't a thing I can do about it,
Marx, Stalin, Zedong and Lenin have had it,

Man is selfish and I can't decide if that's good or not,
I fear that in my reasoning, my hypocrisy will be caught,

My heart breaks for the sadness in the hearts of men and my anger boils when anyone is oblivious to it,

We are miserable!
Love our company!