Despair Of Uncertainty
The shadows of sunshine cross my desk,
work like a prison surrounds me.
Whom do I turn to? To unlock the discord,
of the depressive uncertainty that surround me.
Millions line the dole queues,
as jobs fall daily to accounting cuts.
Life becomes a struggle for daily bread;
bills grow like mountains,
assaulting the conscious brain.
Fists hammer on front doors for monies owing,
disturbances cause neighbours
to look through corners of curtains,
gossip is rife on family’s shame.
Millions spent of foreign aid,
but what about our own impoverished land?
Who is going to give our own a helping hand?
The sad look pleading, in hungry despair.
Who hears these voices call,
only the unfortunate such as they.
poem by David Harris
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Related quotes
Lord let it be so inspired by the Holy Bible
Lord let it be so
O' Lord give us our daily bread
And let it be so
if Despair be our Our daily bread
No Lord let not be so
Examine me my Lord
And know my mind
Keep me on good ways to go
And Lord let it be so
Set me free from distress
Make me good and strong
For sinful gains i must long
No Lord let not be so
Lord listen to my call of help
And be always at my side
Be with me when i need you
And Lord let it be so
O'Lord give us our daily bread
And let it be so
If despair be our daily bread
Lord let not be so
O' Lord give us our daily bread
And let it be so
If despair be our daily
Lord let not be so
And let it be so
Set me free from distress
Make me good and strong
For sinful gains i must long
No Lord let not be so
Lord listen to my call of help
And be always at my side
Be with me when i need you
And let it be so
O' Lord give us our daily bread
And let it be so
If despair be our daily bread
Let not be so
poem by Rehanayakoob Yakoob
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Voices Cryin Out
Voices cryin out, voices cryin out
Voices cryin out in the night hear them call
Voices cryin out hear them call
Its a night
Like no other night
Its a day
Almost turning grey
Its a heart
Like a broken heart
Its a wheel
At the end of day
Its the plight
Of a boy whos scared
Of the waves rushing out
And the wind in the air
Its the sight
Of one longing to taste
Of life
Voices crying out in the night hear them call
Voices from some foreign shore
Visions that seem an incredible dream
Echoing for more
Voices crying out in the night hear them call
Voices crying out hear them call
Its a song
Of a love unsung
Its the pain
Of just being young
Its a cry
Of a voice unheard
Of a face
Speaking silent words
Its the hope
That the time goes by
Take you upon a wing
Teach your soul to fly
Its a wish
That youll live your experience life
Voices crying out in the night hear them call
Voices from some foreign shore
Vision that seem an incredible dream
Echoing for more
Voices crying out in the night hear them call
Voices crying out hear them call
Oh do you know how it feels to be free
Walking your path of life
Embracing destiny one day at a time
Voices cryin out...oh cant you hear them
Voices cryin out...listen please, listen to the future
Voices cryin out...millions and millions and millions of voices
Voices cryin out...oh oh oh oh
Voices crying out in the night hear them call
Voices from some foreign shore
Vision that seem an incredible dream
Echoing for more
Voices crying out in the night hear them call
Voices crying out hear them call
Voices crying out in the night hear them call
Voices from some foreign shore
Vision that seem an incredible dream
Echoing for more
Voices cryin out
Voices cryin out
Voices cryin out...
song performed by by Donna Summer
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Worker
Eight or more hours you work everyday,
to earn your weekly wage, opening it,
look in disgust with what you made.
Therefore, off on strike you go, to cause a little fuss.
The PM beams a fat face,
from your television screen,
say you must go back to work,
and live within your means.
You look at him angrily,
saying, “you silly fool.
I’d be better clothed and fed
if I lived off the dole.”
It is all right for him,
with his thousands a year,
but what about us poor workers
on forty pound a week,
whose monies gone,
before we even, see it.
That does not tweak.
Join the Common Market;
they herald their mournful cry.
It is the first stop to paradise,
but that was just another lie.
Food went up left, right and centre,
thousands landed on the dole.
While parliament got fatter,
and we were the ones to fall.
Taxes rose like tyrants,
to keep the bread from our mouths.
The poor kids lost their school milk
to these educated louts.
Live within your mean they say,
we do not give a damn,
we are the ones in power.
We are going to milk this land.
Milk the land they did by heck,
from every mother’s son.
A PM we never voted for
sits like a king on his throne.
I do not want an election now;
I’d probably never get in again.
The Chancellor of Exchequer,
he lives next door,
sits preparing a budget,
that none of us is looking forward for.
Prices rise daily just to keep us poor,
seems they are out to starve us,
that is all we are sure of anymore,
and trying to bar the bailiff from the front door.
Consideration for the men who work,
to earn a decent pay. There isn’t any there,
all they are out for,
is to see you in an early grave.
You speak out against them,
they call you commie scum,
but they are the ones
with the red flag flying from their bum.
poem by David Harris
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Our Daily Bread
"Give me my daily bread.
It seems so odd,
When all is done and said,
This plea to God.
To pray for cake might be
The thing to do;
But bread, it seems to me,
Is just our due.
"Give me my daily toil,"
I ought to say -
(If from life's cursed coil
I'd time to pray.)
Give me my daily sweat,
My body sore,
So that bread I may get
To toil for more.
"Give me my daily breath,"
Through half a sob,
Until untimely death
Shall end my job.
A crust for my award,
I cry in dread:
"Grant unto me. Oh Lord,
My daily bread!"
poem by Robert William Service
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You Feel That The World Is Against You
You feel that the World is against you and nothing for you is going right
And you struggle just for to make ends meet and life is a hard uphill fight
But than you there are far worse off people though you do not see things that way
In Rwanda a Country in Africa teenagers to support their families work today.
Their parents by war taken from them and the eldest members of the family
Must work for to support their younger siblings they only know of poverty
In our society you may seem a poor man but poverty one can compare
And in the eyes of a Rwandan you would be a multi billionaire.
On five hundred dollars a week take home pay you support your two young children and your wife
As well as buy food, pay bills and the mortgage you do know about the hard life
In this Land they call you a battler you struggle just for to get by
Though the millions of battlers of Rwanda would say that the good life you enjoy.
You feel the whole World is against you a poor fellow on a poor street
But your fridge of food never empty and you and your family
have plenty to eat
And the hungry poor of Rwanda with you only would disagree
They would see you as a wealthy person for they know of extreme poverty
poem by Francis Duggan
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Worries
Everyday we worry
whenever something goes wrong.
Some worry more than others
and their problems seem to grow.
We worry about our kids,
what troubles they get into.
We worry about money,
and how we will pay the bills.
We worry about food
will we have enough
to keep our bellies fed
and give us our daily bread.
We worry about everything
that goes on around us,
our family, our friends, our neighbours
and even strangers
whose lives we do not know.
Sometimes our worries
can even make us ill.
We can never stop worrying.
It is just part of our frame of mind.
However, we should stop worrying
about what is going to happen,
as we cannot change it
or alter its course.
2 July 2008
poem by David Harris
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There's Pain on the Faces
There's pain on the faces,
A hunted look of despair,
Once again,
Have you no shame
Do you feel no pain?
The queues have grown
Of the dirty and dispossessed
Once again,
Have you no shame
Do you feel no pain?
The scared and the lonely
Have no where to go,
Once again,
Have you no shame
Do you feel no pain?
Will take you to the soup kitchens,
Make you stand in line,
Talk to the dispossessed, the lost
Have you no shame,
Do you feel no pain?
Were we here?
When she stood in the rubble
Declaring regeneration
A new dawn for us all.
Have you no shame,
Do you feel no pain?
Take your millions,
Do what you want with it
No one cares
We have no sympathy
For those who feel no shame,
Do you still feel no pain?
© 2012
poem by Nick Strong
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In A Foreign Land
It was a matter of fact that when I paid all my tax
I held my world in the palm of my hand
And all of my debts were causing me to defect
To a land of bananas and sand
So I ran, yes I ran, yes I ran to a foreign land
Here I am, here I am
Here I am in a foreign land
Im so glad we made it
I thought wed never land
I grabbed all my cash
And decided to dash far away
Far away, far away to a foreign land
Here I am, here I am, here I am in a foreign land
Goodbye to all of the rich mans daughters
Goodbye to my debts now Im way cross the water
Far away, far away in a foreign land
Here I am, here I am here I am in a foreign land
La la la la la la
La la la la la la
Please tell my mother and all my ex-lovers
That Ive finally made the grade
Please tell my debtors and the money collectors
That all of my bills will be paid some day
Im away, Im away, far away in a foreign land
Goodbye champagne and caviar set
I wanna slum and drink all the rum I can get
Im away, Im away in a foreign land
Here I am, here I am, here I am in a foreign land
But Im all out of my jack and I cant go back
Im away, far away, far away in a foreign land
La la la la la la
La la la la la la
song performed by by Kinks
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Many Must Grow Poorer
Millions will go to bed hungry tonight that does seem sad to say
And many of them will not wake again for to see another day
The sad fact that many die of malnutrition is sad cause for lament
Whilst billions in war by Governments are spent
Even in the World's wealthiest Nations people live in abject poverty
And the unequal distribution of wealth does seem all wrong to me
The wealthy getting wealthier whilst the homeless of poverty street
Are searching in the rubbish for thrown out food to eat
To have enough of food and shelter should be a basic human right
But millions must try to sleep hungry without shelter tonight
And many cannot feed their families on their meagre take home pay
In an egalatarian World things would never be this way
And many must grow poorer for every new millionaire
And for the hungry millions doesn't life seem so unfair.
poem by Francis Duggan
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Depressed Vilanelle
They say depression's like exhaustion of the brain
And medication's there to help us cope.
A daily tablet keeps me nearly sane
When life brings sorrow over and again
The mind lacks even energy to mope,
They say depression's like exhaustion of the brain.
All passion and desire go down the drain
Soon followed by enthusiasm, hope,
A daily tablet keeps me nearly sane.
Give up the struggle. What is there to gain?
Recovery becomes a slippery slope.
They say depression's like exhaustion of the brain.
But medication's there to ease the pain,
Reduce the gradient as back to life we grope:
A daily tablet keeps me nearly sane.
So praise the Prozac in sonnet or quatrain.
It keeps a chap from Paraquat or rope.
They say depression's like exhaustion of the brain:
A daily tablet keeps me nearly sane.
poem by Pat Duggan
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In Every Way!
how many people are blind?
how many people are deaf?
how many by choice?
perhaps you still have jobs,
homes, food to eat, medical care.
perhaps you have investments,
a way to retire....
perhaps your family is happy,
and well taken care of...
i hope so for you!
millions of people hurting,
millions in need...
millions of children hungry,
millions who cant get an education.
millions enslaved by poverty,
millions left alone....
people with faces and names.
all of these are normal people.
whatever their language, their religion,
their sexual orientation.
all of these are people just like you.
and many of these have families,
just like you!
is it their fault they're victims?
perhaps they've worked their whole lives.
male, female, young, old.....
all people,
with mothers and fathers....
all people....
and no, America is not free.
the news we watch is tainted.
the truth is hidden from us.
killing people around the world
does not make us free....
books are being banned and burned,
prejudice and discrimination are rampant.
we have forgotten we are responsible for each other,
we have forgotten we are all immigrants here.
there are no illegal people,
all people are just people.
freedom demands equality,
in every way!
poem by Eric Cockrell
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Woman In The Struggle
Raving voices
Up raised fists
Marching on shoulder to shoulder
In the Front line
Having slogans
Your snapshots are invisible
May be your energy
To be advanced
As a mountain of life
Being a mother and a wife
A sister and a friend
May be give a breath
To light up the torch
History of the struggle is
Not the struggle only of the men
But the picture of unseen and unwritten
Thousands stories behind
Capricious weakness
Image of the history
Until eliminate reality
It will be also a struggle
Within the struggle
You are invisible
poem by Udaya R. Tennakoon
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Don't Tell Me About It I Already Know
Don't tell me about it I already know
That money on bushes and trees does not grow
Yet of it some do have far more than enough
Whilst millions of poor people are doing it tough.
The unequal distribution of wealth seems humanity's shame
For every millionaire hundreds without a penny to their name
Homeless and hungry on poverty street
They hardly would know of the taste of good meat.
So many of life's opportunities denied
Their circumstance of birth their future's for them decide
Of their lives of poverty of varying degrees
In the refugee camps millions of refugees.
Don't tell me about it I know all too well
That millions are living in their earthly hell
Money breeds inequality doesn't that seem unfair
It is a rat race in the big World out there.
poem by Francis Duggan
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Don`t Do The Crime
Don't do the crime,
If you can't do the time
It's said that it just don't pay.
But what good's working hard
When all they give you is your cards
And you know there's not much you can say.
So you take what they give
You've no money to live
And your family don't understand.
After all these years
They will end up in tears
With a mountain of bills in their hands.
(chorus)
Now your lesson is learned
There's nowhere to turn
And it's no use pleading for help.
When you're left on the heap
When you're left on the heap
There is nothing to keep you
From going and helping yourself
From going and helping yourself.
The dilemma you've found
Is you're morally bound
Now your morally bound
Now your moral code needs a review
So what do you care
You know life isn't fair
And for years they've been stealing from you.
song performed by by Ub40
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Turn It Off
I'm conscious of liars that cross my path
The sinners ambitious to rule this land
The gardens are dead and the walls have bled
People betrayed in a secret rage
Turn it off, somebody's asking me
Turn it off, somebody hears
Turn it off, somebody's asking me
Turn it off, somebody show a better way
The system's in distress
We feel the consequence, yeah
Sinners and liars have crossed my path
There's simple disgrace from the souls of man
My sister's in rags and her babes in pain
Turn it off, somebody's asking me
Turn it off, somebody hears
Turn it off, somebody's asking me
Turn it off, somebody show a better way
Don't hear the words I'm preaching
If you deny the times of tribulation
Don't read the words I've given
If you believe there's sides to revelations
Life that once was taken brings a million lives to isolation
Brings a million lives to isolation
Turn it off, somebody's asking me
Turn it off, somebody hears
Turn it off, somebody's asking me
Turn it off, somebody show a better way
I'm conscious of liars that cross my path
The sinners ambitious to rule this land
The gardens are dead and the walls have bled
(Anthony Cosmo)
song performed by by Boston
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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There Have Been Millions And Millions Of Years
THERE HAVE BEEN MILLIONS AND MILLIONS OF YEARS
There have been millions and millions of years
And there will be millions and millions more
And I have had only less than seventy-
There is so much to see and be and know
I could understand far more than I do now
I have so much beauty and hope and love in me
Why do I have to die?
It does not seem fair or wise
So much waste and loss in my dying
Worlds in me that will never be known.
poem by Shalom Freedman
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It Begins Right Now!
we live in the most intense time
that the modern world has seen...
governments and economies are
caving from within... the very
air we breathe is polluted, the
water we drink has been defiled.
sea life is being destroyed, and
the world food situation worsens
at an alarming rate... millions
live and die in poverty, millions
are homeless, without medical care...
masses of workers are unemployed,
children grow up on the streets
without hope, and end up in prison.
human rights are being violated,
or just plain taken. and people
are absolutely afraid of each other!
we have closed our eyes, and numbed
our souls for too long. now we stand
on the brink of disaster, and we're
forced to wake up!
so what can one person do? one person
can live in a way that stands for truth...
one person can demand freedom, and equality.
one person can reach out a helping hand...
and when one person daring to live becomes
millions, we can move the stone from the
mouth of the cave!
but it all begins with one person... and
it begins right now, or its too damned late!
poem by Eric Cockrell
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Where Spring, the lord of the seasons
Where Spring, the lord of the seasons, reigneth,
there the Unstruck Music sounds of itself,
There the streams of light flow in all directions;
Few are the men who can cross to that shore!
There, where millions of Krishnas stand with hands folded,
Where millions of Vishnus bow their heads,
Where millions of Brahmas are reading the Vedas,
Where millions of Shivas are lost in contemplation,
Where millions of Indras dwell in the sky,
Where the demi-gods and the munis are unnumbered,
Where millions of Saraswatis, Goddess of Music, play on the veena
There is my Lord self-revealed:
and the scent of sandal and flowers dwells in those deeps.
Seeing Things Not There
Our voices are sometimes muted
on seeing things that are not there.
Witnessing events relived from the past
by people no longer here,
hearing voices we cannot explain.
At first, they frighten us,
as we know not what they are
or where they come from.
However, they hold our fascination
at what only we can see and hear.
Millions of moments from the past
cross our path throughout our life.
Some remain invisible except to our ears
and others re-enact a history
in which they were involved.
The less we talk about them,
the less we will understand
why they pay a visit to only us
when millions of others
walk along the same path.
21 November 2009
poem by David Harris
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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No Exit
Journeying from the beginning
(of which there is no beginning) ,
travelling for millions of years
(which cannot be measured in millions or years) ,
I have come,
and go on.
No stopping.
Just the onward movement
into the illimitable.
For ever.
No need to blame the wicked,
their shadows are at their heels.
No need to fear for the good,
haloes of light enclose them in splendour.
No need to talk of escape.
Escape from this prison
is a doorway into the prison yard
and back again.
This prison is moving
and all-encompassing.
There is nothing outside it
to be escaped into.
There is no escape from.
There is only stopping.
Where there is stopping, how can there be movement?
If there is no movement, how could there be a prison?
poem by Brian Taylor
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