When I was a 15-year old lad taking a high school creative writing class, we were given the assignment to compose a work that evoked strong emotions. I reached inside myself and outside to the world around me. As a side note, it is always awesome to me how history continues to loop back on itself. This was the mid-70's when gasoline was in short supply, jobs were scarce and times were reasonably rough. (sound familiar?) My finished product was a poem dedicated to indifference. Sadly, I find it is every bit as apropos 35 years later as it was the day I wrote it.
I live in my own world and I don't care
what's happening in distant lands somewhere.
The sorrow and the pain they feel, I do not choose to see.
Their relative condition doesn't matter much to me.
You can see that I don't really give a damn
who in the world is worse off than I am.
For I have matters of my own to which I must attend.
No time have I the sick and helpless masses to defend.
Yet, if when I am finished and I have an hour or two,
perhaps then I will come and try to lend some aid to you.
But if when I arrive I find you are no longer there?
Then rest assured that, deep inside, I didn't really care.