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I'll always be poor in my mind.

quote by Chet Atkins
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Poor Boy

Can you believe me when I say, theres nothing I like better,
Than just to sit here and talk with you.
Although Ill rant and Ill rave about one thing and another
The beauty of it is so pure to me, though,
Im a poor boy,
I can still be happy,
As long as I can feel free.
So many people I know, get old way too early
(well are you feelin kind of weary)
Just to impress you with the money theyve made
(you better, you better change your theory)
One drop of rain, they complain, its the same about the ways theyre earning.
Well, that is not the way Im gonna be,
Dont mind the rain, dont mind snow, dont mind nothin
If I know,
You will be right here with me
-well let her stay, dont mind a point of view,
How can we all afford to live like you;
This life is simply not enough,
We have no grievances, we must be tough-
-poor boy-
If thats the way its gonna be
-poor boy-
Its you for you and me for me
-poor boy-
(rd+rh)
Ive tried all I can, understanding, all the fools and all threir money,
When half of what theyve got, you know they never will use,
Enough to get by, suits me fine, I dont care if they think Im funny.
Im never gonna change my point of view,
Dont mind the rain, dont mind snow, dont mind nothing, if I know
You will be right here with me, all the way.
Na-na-na
Dont mind the rain, dont mind snow, dont mind nothing if I know
You will be right here with me , all the way.

song performed by by Supertramp
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Hollywood Holiday

I rode my motorcycle through a watermelon patch
Right on the california freeway
I took my holy Bible on my blessed boogie woogie drive
Cause I know I know I know
Where I go oh lord theyre gonna bless me jive
Poor you poor me
Poor everybody who buy to be
Poor me poor you
Poor everybody who die to do
I parked my motorcycle on hollywood and vine
And sang till my red blood turned boiling blue
I took my sole survival and bore my cross on a string
Cause I know I know I know
What I dear I bear my charm to king
Poor you poor me
Poor everybody who buy to be
Poor me poor you
Poor everybody who die to do

song performed by by Gino Vanelli
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Poor Little Girl

Poor Little Girl

Nobody cares what she does
She only lives what she was
In her mind reliving thoughts of yesterday
‘til she finds she knows her way she’ll have to play poor little girl
Poor little girl

Why can’t she love what she’s seen
People don’t want her to’ve been
Wasting time and living in her yesterday
‘til she finds she knows her way she’ll have to play poor little girl
Poor little girl

Her heart will shoulder
Who she’s intended to be
She may never know her
Until she has set herself free

Harboring the darkest nights of yesterday
So until she finds her way she’ll have to play poor little girl
Poor little girl

She’s so important to me
I admit I use to be
Runnin’ never knowin’ of my destiny
Blessings in disguise today that end that play

Poor little girl,
Poor little girl
Poor little girl
Little girl’s me

Copyright 1969, Will Fiala

poem by Will Fiala
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The Poor Mind

The poor mind becomes a temple
Based on the noble and virtuous
Thoughts it possesses.

The poor mind becomes a trash can
Based on the ignoble and noxious
Thoughts it contains.

The lowly always dwell
On sinister thoughts vicious
And on loathsome thoughts injurious.

If these deleterious thoughts
Of malevolence and trash are erased
The poor mind becomes highly raised
And it becomes a temple.

poem by Chandra Thiagarajan
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Too Much On My Mind

Theres too much on my mind,
Theres too much on my mind,
And I cant sleep at night thinking about it.
Im thinking of the time,
Theres too much on my mind,
It seems theres more to life than just to live it.
Theres too much on my mind,
And there is nothing I can say.
Theres too much on my mind,
And there is nothing I can do
About it,
About it.
My thought just weigh me down,
And drag me to the ground,
And shake my head till theres no more life in me.
Its ruining my brain,
Ill never be the same,
My poor demented mind is slowly going.
Theres too much on my mind,
And there is nothing I can say.
Theres too much on my mind,
And there is nothing I can do
About it,
About it.
Theres too much on my mind.

song performed by by Kinks
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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I Go For Simplicity My Friend

i go for simplicity my friend
because i am poor

i do not go for sophistication
because i am poor

i do not complicate matters
because i am poor

i do not want you to misunderstand
because i am poor

i do not want you to think some more
because i am poor

i do not want to convince you
because i am poor

i do not want you to be with our side
because we are poor

i want all things in their simplified forms
because we cannot afford
any other form of convolutions

we cannot afford another revolution
it will be expensive
and we have no more years to give
to pay for the sponsors

poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The Lay of Poor Louise

Ah, poor Louise! the livelong day
She roams from cot to castle gay;
And still her voice and viol say,
Ah, maids, beware the woodland way,
Think on Louise.

Ah, poor Louise! The sun was high,
It smirch'd her cheek, it dimm'd her eye,
The woodland walk was cool and nigh,
Where birds with chiming streamlets vie
To cheer Louise.

Ah, poor Louise! The savage bear
Made ne'er that lovely grove his lair;
The wolves molest not paths so fair-
But better far had such been there
For poor Louise.

Ah, poor Louise! In woody wold
She met a huntsman fair and bold;
His baldric was of silk and gold,
And many a witching tale he told
To poor Louise.

Ah, poor Louise! Small cause to pine
Hadst thou for treasures of the mine;
For peace of mind that gift divine,
And spotless innocence, were thine,
Ah, poor Louise!

Ah, poor Louise! Thy treasure's reft!
I know not if by force or theft,
Or part by violence, part by gift;
But misery is all that's left
To poor Louise.

Let poor Louise some succour have!
She will not long your bounty crave,
Or tire the gay with warning stave-
For Heaven has grace, and earth a grave,
Poor poor Louise.

poem by Sir Walter Scott
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Make Up Mind

I cant seem to make up my mind
I cant tell the colors
That will fit this room
I cant tell a thing about you make up my mind
I cant seem to make up my mind
Are you laughing at me
Or telling a joke, the cigarette on the sheet
Begins to smoke, make up your mind
Right or left, up or down
In or out, straight or round
Love or lust, rain or shine
I cant seem to make up my poor mind
I cant seem to make up my mind
I cant tell the difference between wrong and right
Are you laughing at me in your sleep tonight
Leaving me behind
Leaving me behind
Why dont you make up your mind
(I cant seem to make up my mind)
About leaving me, baby
(I cant seem to make up my mind)
(I cant seem to make up my mind)
(I cant seem to make up my mind)

song performed by by Lou Reed
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Almost all the noblest things that have been achieved in the world, have been achieved by poor men; poor scholars, poor professional men, poor artisans and artists, poor philosophers, poets, and men of genius.

quote by Albert Pike
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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A Small Plot Of Land

Poor soul
Spit upon that
Poor soul
He never knew what hit him
And it hit him so
Poor dunce
He pushed back the pigmen
The barbs laughed
The fool is dead
Poor dunce
Hes less than within us
The brains talk
But the will to live is dead
And prayer cant
Travel so far these days
The talk of your life
Standing so near
To innocent eyes
Poor dunce
Swings thru the tunnels
And claws his way
Is small life so manic
Are these really the days
Poor dunce
Poor dunce
Poor soul
Poor soul
Poor soul

song performed by by David Bowie
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Poor Little Girl

Poor little girl
With her head in the air
Theres a poorly sick world all around you
Poor horny boy
One thing on his mind
That poor little girl
He must find you
Chorus:
Theres a whole lotta love
Shaking inside of me
And I must figure out why its there
Theres a bottomless heart
Thats hooked into all of you
And its wondering how much you care
Poor little girl
With a whole in her heart
Theres a poorly sick world all around you
Poor horny boy
One thing on his mind
That poor little girl
He must find you
Theres a whole lotta love
Shaking inside of me
And I must figure out why its there
Theres a bottomless heart
Hooked into all of you
And its wondering how much you care
Poor little boy
Head in a whirl
Theres a phony slick world all around you
That poor little girl
With her head in the air
That poor little boy he must find you
Theres a whole lotta love
Shaking inside of me
And I must figure out why its there
Theres a bottomless heart
Hooked into all of you
And its wondering how much you care
Theres a need and desire I have
To express whats inside of me
I must figure it out while its still there
And an endless amout of
Of a joy that you touch me with
Thought its almost too much for me to bear
Poor litte girl

song performed by by George Harrison
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Make Up My Mind

I can't seem to make up my mind
I can't tell the colors, that will fit this room
I can't tell a thing about you
Make up my mind
I can't seem to make up my mind
Are you laughing at me or telling a joke
The cigarette on the sheet begins to smoke
Make up your mind
Right or left, up or down, in or out
Straight or round, love or lust, rain or shine
I can't seem to make up my poor mind
I can't seem to make up my mind
I can't tell the difference between wrong and right
Are you laughing at me in your sleep tonight
Leaving me behind, leaving me behind
Why don't you make up your mind

song performed by by Lou Reed
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Poor Baby

Orbison/c & r price
Glittery eyes; witchy smiles
A good time is all you are after
Skin tight thighs; little white lies
Put you in the center of the laughter
But your reign of queen is over
Your fortress has been broken down
You're still the center of the laughter
But your role has changed to the clown
Chorus
Ooh poor baby
Someone broke your heart in two
Ooh poor baby
Who would have thought it could happen to you
Poor baby
A pretty face; sweet talkin' ways
Got you a part of the action
A come-over-touch, glances and such
You always had to be the main attraction
Now you're the one who's crying
You lost at your own lonely game
You're still the center of attraction
But now i'm gone, you've got yourself to blame
Chorus
Ooh poor baby
Do what you said you'd never do
Ooh poor baby
You let someone get much too close to you
Poor baby
Poor baby,poor baby
Poor baby,poor baby

song performed by by Roy Orbison
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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If I were dead

'IF I were dead, you'd sometimes say, Poor Child!'
The dear lips quiver'd as they spake,
And the tears brake
From eyes which, not to grieve me, brightly smiled.
Poor Child, poor Child!
I seem to hear your laugh, your talk, your song.
It is not true that Love will do no wrong.
Poor Child!
And did you think, when you so cried and smiled,
How I, in lonely nights, should lie awake,
And of those words your full avengers make?
Poor Child, poor Child!
And now, unless it be
That sweet amends thrice told are come to thee,
O God, have Thou no mercy upon me!
Poor Child!

poem by Coventry Patmore
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The Sunken Crown

Nothing will hold him longer—let him go;
Let him go down where others have gone down;
Little he cares whether we smile or frown,
Or if we know, or if we think we know.
The call is on him for his overthrow,
Say we; so let him rise, or let him drown.
Poor fool! He plunges for the sunken crown,
And we—we wait for what the plunge may show.

Well, we are safe enough. Why linger, then?
The watery chance was his, not ours. Poor fool!
Poor truant, poor Narcissus out of school;
Poor jest of Ascalon; poor king of men.—
The crown, if he be wearing it, may cool
His arrogance, and he may sleep again.

poem by Edwin Arlington Robinson
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Poor Little Bug

Poor little june bug floatin' in the pond
Poor little june bug not too fond
Of the water that he's floatin' on
For he's caught in a hydrogen bond.

Poor little moth floatin' in a lake
See 'em squirm, see 'em shake
Poor little moth floatin' in a lake
Sure could use a break

Poor little fly floatin' on by
We're watchin' 'em try to fly
Seein' 'em suffer kinda makes me cry
Put that in your stir fry

Poor little june bug floatin' in a fountain
Tryin' to swim's like climbin' a mountain
Poor little bug under a rug
Wish I could give 'em a hug.

poem by Adam Thoms
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Small Time

small time, you call it small time
writing
is small time, there is no money
in writing, like a
politician, look at him, he does not
write, someone writes for him
and he gets the prize
the money
the pot
the jackpot
and look at you
you keep on writing
and writing
and writing

oh la la
poems, fit for a woman
her limited mind
her gullibility
her passion for words and words and words
her imagination

and look at you
poor man, poor, poor, poor
what you give
to this world, what are you giving to this world

it is not even a flower
just a poem for her, and you claim that you are winning her heart?

poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Greed

There's a crawling
In my mind
Whispering
Poor me, poor me
Centering me
As chaos
Consumes me
But never to think
About what others see
The pain they do feel
It is always too late
Release and me
And guilt completes
The inner fate
A monster yet
A crawling deed
The wrath of all
My want and need

poem by April Swan
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Money is Sacred

Money is so sacred, my mind is reactive
To the special things in life.
Too heavy in my mind is this life,
When money is donated to another life,
To give blood is easier.

Money is too sacred. Its business is supreme
And laudable. Most adorable. Why do you laugh?
Business makes you perfect. So what about the family?
Is it given its just help, or are you poor for yourself?
Money is sacred and wealth we be. We are not poor.

poem by Naveed Akram
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The Poor

God is with the poor

But do the poor know God is with them?

As they look out from the crowd

Lost in their 'man made prison'

God is with the poor

But do the poor know God is with them?

As they look up to the proud

Who looks back with derision

And who can tell the poor that God is with them?

He who paints angel wings on ragged backs?

Makes hungry mouths sing for their supper

He who nothing lacks?

Who poorer still can say God is with us?

When homeless turn away from too much fuss

But God is with them

Is he with us?

And poorer still in having more

But never having too much

Who can say then God is with us?

yvette smith

poem by Yvette Smith
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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