First World Problems

I stand on my mountain above the clouds
Looking down at you sulking in the rain.
Being so dry, I can’t help but feel proud
While trying hard not to laugh at your pain.
But I worked hard to climb to this top
While you chose the easy route down below,
So I wish that all your whining would stop
And allow for my happiness to grow.
You only care about where you are at
With only a glance at news from the other place.
Why should I care ’bout the problems you got
When the hot sun is shining on my face?
I forgot one thing in my life of ease
Before I burn, pass up the sunblock please.