The Sickest Kick

Where were you when we got sick?
Working 9 to 5, busy in smoke, thick.
Your S.H. lacks any service or health;
You're far too busy counting up your wealth;
Your cars, your frocks, your deco garnet rings,
Enveloped in power with fraudulence it brings.
Speaking to ones whom mouths tell no truth,
Your silence projects no form of couth.
Your lies, your words, they don't mean shit.
Where were you when we got sick?
You could have rang, you could have spoke,
Yet you remained gagged and made me choke.
My hurt is infinite; awash with anger,
Yet the days passed, and I waited longer.
The call - when it came - was dripping in fable
And you're the one calling me unstable?
So treat your patience as I'd expect;
Lacking concern, but now regret.
Who has felt the strongest kick?
Where were you when we got sick?