Some wake up sharp by the daybreak
Take a bath; wear ashes or tilak
Liberally on their foreheads and bodes;
Burn incense and light oil wick;
Before their deities and join the world
To swindle, squeeze and abuse the weak

Some rise late by eight or nine
After a seesawed night of spilled over wine
And go out to help the maimed
Unfed, oppressed and distressed

If one asks me to make a wise choice
I don’t mind siding with the sinful looking latter
In spite of the God-factor with the sinister former

sathya narayana

http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/choice-44/