Poverty And Wealth
The stork flew over a town one day,
And back of each wing an infant lay;
One to a rich man’s home he brought,
And one he left at a labourer’s cot.
The rich man said, ‘My son shall be
A lordly ruler o’er land and sea.’
The labourer sighed, ‘’Tis the good God’s will
That I have another mouth to fill.’
The rich man’s son grew strong and fair,
And proud with the pride of a millionaire.
His motto in life was, ‘Live while you may, ’
And he crowded years in a single day.
He bought position and name and place,
And he bought him a wife with a handsome face.
He journeyed over the whole wide world,
But discontent his heart lay curled
Like a serpent hidden in leaves and moss,
And life seemed hollow and gold was dross.
He scoffed at woman, and doubted God,
And died like a beast and went back to the sod.
The son of the labourer tilled the soil,
And thanked God daily for health and toil.
He wedded for love in his youthful prime,
And two lives chorded in tune and time.
His wants were simple, and simple his creed,
To trust God fully: it served his need,
And lightened his labour, and helped him to die
With a smile on his lips and a hope in his eye.
When all is over and all is done,
Now which of these men was the richer one?
poem by Ella Wheeler Wilcox
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Related quotes
Poor Folks Town
The work is hard and the hours are long
The money aint much but we get along
Were rich in things can give
That cant be bought with a dollar bill
So, come on down
Have a look around
Rich folks livin in a poor folks town
We got no money but were rich in love
Thats one thing that weve got a-plenty of
So come on down have a look around
At rich folks livin in a poor folks town
We got no carpets on the floor
Weve got wall to wall love
Who could ask for more
We got no big fine things to show
Just a place to watch our children grow
We got no big fine fancy car to drive
And no fancy clothes to keep in style
What weve got were payin on
But its mostly love that were livin on
So, come on down
Have a look around
Rich folks livin in a poor folks town
We got no money but were rich in love
Thats one thing that weve got a-plenty of
So come on down have a look around
At rich folks livin in a poor folks town
Weve got a little simple church nearby
And the promise of a mansion in the sky
A heart of gold a million dollar smile
And a one way ticket to paradise
So, come on down
Have a look around
Rich folks livin in a poor folks town
We got no money but were rich in love
Thats one thing that weve got a-plenty of
So come on down have a look around
At rich folks livin in a poor folks town
So, come on down
Have a look around
Rich folks livin in a poor folks town
We got no money but were rich in love
Thats one thing that weve got a-plenty of
So come on down have a look around
At rich folks livin in a poor folks town
song performed by by Dolly Parton
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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I Search For Meaning In My Life
I search for meaning in my life but meaning i can't find
It's just like chasing shadows through the meadows in the
wind
My boss is off on holidays out cruising with his wife
And i wake at dawn to work for him there must be more to
life? .
I'm one of those who have helped to make that man a
millionaire
And yet for those who work for him he does not seem to care
If i quit this job tomorrow there will be one to take my
place
He will find another labourer to fill the vacant space.
There's surely more to life than this there must be an
easier way
Than working for a wealthy man to earn an honest pay
Perhaps in a few years from now the boss to me will say
You must make way for a younger man you've seen your better
day.
My boss is off on holidays out cruising with his wife
And i wake at dawn to work for him there must be more to
life
I'm one of those who have helped to make that man a
millionaire
And yet for those who work for him he does not seem to care.
poem by Francis Duggan
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He’s Gone to England for a Wife
HE’S GONE to England for a wife
Among the ladies there;
And yet I know a lass he deemed
The rarest of the rare.
He’s gone to England for a wife;
And rich and proud is he.
But he was poor and toiled for bread
When first he courted me.
He said I was the best on earth;
He said I was “his life”;
And now he thinks of noble birth,
And seeks a lady wife!
He said for me alone he’d toil
To win an honest fame;
But now no lass on southern soil
Is worthy of his name!
I think I see his lady bride,
A fair and faultless face,
And nothing in her heart beside
The empty pride of race.
And she will grace his gilded home,
The wife his gold shall buy;
But will she ever dream of him,
Or love as well as I?
poem by Henry Lawson
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Get Rich
Columbus sailed the ocean blue
To see what he would fine
With visions of another world
They said he'd lost his mind
But when he told them of the land he'd found
A land so rich with gold
To get the treasures on the other side
They left the lad of old to
(Chorus)
Get rich now
Get rich now
Get rich now
Get rich now
Napoleon thought that he could be
The ruler of it all
The things he wanted were so very big
But he was very small
They spread the word throughout the land
That he would soon be king
But his greed and pride got in the way
And he lost everything to
(Chorus)
Oh the president and the generals
Are getting ready for a war
The only thing that they don't know
Is what they're fighting for
They shine their suits of armor
And they tell us to prepare
While they take wealth and freedom
And just leave us standing there
Get rich now
song performed by by Kansas
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Agrarian Tenant
eddie is the guy
he used to be a lover of women in the town
when his father Toldo died
he inherits
tenancy, and so he married early
got six kids, wife ligated, and lived a
simple life beside a
ricefield, on the empty
fields he can see the black crows
and the sparrows
and the scarecrows, for year and years
he
tilled the land left by my forefathers
as we finish our courses
this time i come back to see him
how
old has he become, emaciated, deep brown skin
dry long hair, cracking lips,
gnarled fingers,
i though he too would not recognize me
we had a talk about the farm and the rice
produce, the cost of fertilizers and pesticides
and the chinese cartel
and the massive importation from vietnam
killing all of their dreams
i have not done my duty, but here he is
surviving on few grains left
on salted fish
all his children gone
domesticated in other homes of the rich
few in Hongkong
one in Dubai the other one opens her parlor
in Vigan
at the end, there is only the two of them
his ligated wife and himself
unbending.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Silver & Gold
Well, I met an old man walkin down the street
His clothes were torn and tattered
With sandals on his feet
And I stopped to help him
And lend him a hand
He said, I love you so much
But you must understand
1st chorus:
Silver and gold might buy you a home
But things of this world
They wont last you long
And time has a way of turning us old
And time cant be bought back with silver and gold
And he said to me, lets rest for awhile
For I have some good news to share with you, child
He said, you cant change this old world
The people need to know
That a dear savior died here
A long, long time ago
Repeat 1st chorus
His eyes shown like diamonds
And his smile was heaven sent
His hair was long and flowing
And his back was slightly bent
And I knew he knew it
For that day I changed
As I watched him walk on
I forgot to get his name
2nd chorus:
He said, silver and gold cant buy you a home
When this life has ended
And your time is gone
But you can live in a world where
Youll never grow old
And things cant be bought there with silver and gold
Tag:
And time cant be bought back with silver and gold
song performed by by Dolly Parton
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Rich In Our Own World
We are rich in our own world
and far richer than you think,
we are rich love and caring
from our family and friends.
We are rich in what we give
our wisdom and our laughter
that we share with everyone.
We are rich for all sorts of reasons
and none of them includes money.
If you think, you are poor,
forget it and think again.
Think of all the things you have
and you will be surprised to find
you are far richer than you think.
You are rich in your own world
with everything you have
and they are far richer than
anything money can bring.
14 October 2009
poem by David Harris
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Fundamental of Liar Chapter LXX: Good Vs Bad
Good is always in simple mind, bad always thinks how to trick
Good is always in simple way, bad always finds the escape
Good is always in simple manner, bad always fakes to cheat
Good is always in simple purpose, bad always has a catch
Good is always in simple reason, bad always uses layered lies
Good is always in simple trust, bad always changes the side
Good is always in simple life, bad always watches his back
Good is always in simple word, bad always talks complicated
Good is always in simple fun, bad always tired to understand
Good is always in simple hope, bad always tries to control the world
Good is always in simple choice, bad always looks what’s the point
Good is always in simple act, bad always counts the advantage
Good is always in simple thing, bad always exaggerates what have been
poem by Maria Sudibyo
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Rich Music
Rich music like the morning sun, showers us with tender love
Touching our dear lives with so much tenderness to be won.
Rich music spreads peace right across the air like a gentle dove,
So that we can feel the need to live together as one.
Rich music fills the whole place with sounds of harmony above
That we can live in the world, so pleasant and filled with fun.
Rich music gives notes on how we can handle the inside of
Ourselves, so that we can live to shine like the sun.
Rich music tells how we can give our illness a good shove,
So that all the good we bring into our lives can be done.
poem by Obinna Kenechukwu Eruchie
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The Mendicants
Charity, Charity - parson and priest
Ever in church and in chapel have taught
'Give ye in charity e'en to the least,
So may the favor of Heaven be bought.
Strive ye in Virtue, for Him that we call
Master has named it the greatest of all.
Strive ye in holiness;
Owner of acres and breeder of sheep.
Cleaning his wealth with a masterful hand,
Scheming for profit with schemes that are deep.
Yet is the squatter a generous soul
A generous donor, and this be more:
He never begrudges - nor misses - the dole
Of gratuitous guineas he flings from his store.
Charity, Charity - purchase your fame!
All the world honours a giver of alms.
Noble philanthropist! Publish his name!
Scatter his gift to the suppliant palms.
Nay! Would you ask how his guineas are won?
Mark his beneficence? See what he's done!
Thank him, ye lowly ones;
Bless him you holy ones.
Charity, Charity - worthily done!
Humble BILL HODMAN is agèd and poor;
Owning no riches and owning no lands,
Living the life of a labouring boor,
Earning his bread by the toil of his hands.
Yet is the toiler an obstinate soul
An obstinate pauper, and this be more:
He'd answer with curses if offered a dole
In charity out of a rich man's store.
Charity, Charity - ignorant clowns!
What should ye know of personal pride?
Shame on your surliness! Shame on your frowns!
Spurring the gifts that the wealthy provide!
Are they not generous? Are they not kind?
Pride is their privilege, why should ye mind?
Study servility;
Practise humility.
Charity, Charity - fools, ye are blind!
Proud Squatter REX has a charming wife
Queen of society, lady of birth;
Nurtured in luxury, smiling thro' life,
Ever enjoying the sweets of the earth.
Ah, but she pities the poor o' the land
Sweet benefactress, as kind as her lord.
Patroness she of a slum-working band,
President, too, of a hospital board.
Charity, Charity - down in the slums
Misery stalks 'mid the lean o' the land.
Angel beneficent! See where she comes,
Scattering gifts with a generous hand.
Sweet Lady Bountiful, draw in your skirt;
Shrink from the misery squalor and dirt.
Pity is lured to it?
Nay, they're inured to it.
Charity, Charity is their desert.
Labourer BILL has a toil-worn wife
Drudge of the lower class, cradled in care;
Nurtured in poverty, struggling through life,
Knowing too well all the bitterness there.
Ah, but she nurses a foolish old pride
Wife of a labourer barren of lands
Knowing the 'comforts' they humbly divide
Are earned, doubly earned, by the toil of their hands.
Charity, Charity - nay, foolish drudge!
Why should you slave till the end of your day?
Think of the wealthy who never begrudge
Gifts to the 'Home' where the indignent stay.
Why should mendicity shame such as you?
Indigence, beggary - these are not new.
Where is the blame for it?
What's in the name of it?
Charity, Charity - it is your due.
Proud Squatter REX, does your lordly soul
Shrink from the thought of a mendicant whine?
Are you too proud to solicit a dole
Won by the sweat of a fellow of thine?
What of the subsidy sued for and paid?
Paid at a word from a tool of the 'class';
Earned, hardly earned, at a labourer's trade
Charity wrung from the toil of the mass.
Charity, Charity - what's in a name?
Whine for a subsidy, lo, and it comes!
Still it is charity ever the same
Begged from a palace or cadged from the slums.
Call it a clever political game
Yours is the sordidness, yours is the shame.
Moneyed mendacity,
Skilled in duplicity.
Charity, Charity! - this is its name.
Sweet lady Bountiful, queen of your set,
Selfish for pleasure and greedy for show,
When come the toys and the treasures you get/
Have you considered or wanted to know?
Nay, would you stoop to take pence from the poor,
Soiled with the sweat of an overworked wife
Loaf on the toil of a labouring boor,
Squander his pittance to lighten your life?
Charity, Charity - cover your face!
This is your charity, this is your pride:
To laugh, and to live, and to know the disgrace
Of squandering pence that the needy provide.
Some toiling sister, some work-weary soul,
Is slaving the harder to eke out your dole.
Blush for the shame of it!
Shrink form the name of it!
Blush for your name upon Charity's roll!
poem by Clarence Michael James Stanislaus Dennis
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The Prime of Life
OH, the strength of the toil of those twenty years, with father, and master, and men!
And the clearer brain of the business man, who has held his own for ten:
Oh, the glorious freedom from business fears, and the rest from domestic strife!
The past is dead, and the future assured, and I’m in the prime of life!
She bore me old, and they kept me old, and they worked me early and late;
I carried the loads of my selfish tribe, from seven to thirty eight:
I slaved with dad, in the dust and heat, that my brothers might enjoy—
But I rest to-day in the prime of life, and I’ll live and die a boy!
When the last crop failed, and the stock were gone, did the old man’s head go down?
No! he started business, on what was left, in the produce line in town.
They sent my brothers to boarding schools, when our way to the front we’d won—
They’d borrow, and borrow, but never had aught but contempt for the eldest son.
My brothers they went to the world away, and they left the home in strife.
They sowed wild oats in the pride of youth, and they pawned the prime of life.
They sowed too fast, and they sowed too far; and they came back one by one—
You couldn’t tell which is the eldest son and which is the youngest son.
Oh, I longed for a love that I could not claim, and a breath of the youth denied—
But I stuck to the store when the old man went, and the mater until she died:
With Job’s own sister and Satan’s aunt—good Lord! and the fiend’s own wife—
But I’m free of them now, it is no matter how, and I’m in the prime of life.
My brothers have turned respectable, and are steady as men can be:
The youngest and worst is a leading light—and he aims at reforming me!
But I lend and help, and I’ll fix them up, for I can’t but see with a sigh,
That the youngest, who left us a handsome boy, is an older man than I.
But it’s “Lord make us thankful” three times a day, before they eat their fill—
They can thank the Lord if they like, I say, but I reckon I pay the bill.
They feel independent, I’m glad to know, for if all I hear is true,
My brothers agree that I do no more than I have a right to do.
They’ll work in the store while I see the world, and I’ll let them share the till—
But I sail to-day, for a year away, to go wherever I will:
I sail with the woman who waited for me—old sweetheart; and brand new wife—
She is handsome and true, and she’s thirty-two—and I’m in the prime of life.
For Capetown, and London, and Norraway, for Germany, Holland, and France,
For Switzerland, Italy—anywhere—for Greece, and for Egypt a glance,
For India, China, and “strange Japan”, for the East with mystery rife—
I have made enough, and I have my love—and I’m in the prime of life!
poem by Henry Lawson
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Are you rich?
Because parents are rich
I am not rich.
Because brothers or sisters
Or in-laws are rich,
Because own children are rich
I am no richer.
Unless I myself am rich
I cannot be rich.
Too late to understand
And hence poor I went.
Agartala
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
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The Stolen God--Lazarus To Dives
We do not clamour for vengeance,
We do not whine for fear;
We have cried in the outer darkness
Where was no man to hear.
We cried to man and he heard not;
Yet we thought God heard us pray;
But our God, who loved and was sorry -
Our God is taken away.
Ours were the stream and the pasture,
Forest and fen were ours;
Ours were the wild wood-creatures,
The wild sweet berries and flowers.
You have taken our heirlooms from us,
And hardly you let us save
Enough of our woods for a cradle,
Enough of our earth for a grave.
You took the wood and the cornland,
Where still we tilled and felled;
You took the mine and quarry,
And all you took you held.
The limbs of our weanling children
You crushed in your mills of power;
And you made our bearing women toil
To the very bearing hour.
You have taken our clean quick longings,
Our joy in lover and wife,
Our hope of the sunset quiet
At the evening end of life;
You have taken the land that bore us,
Its soil and stone and sod;
You have taken our faith in each other -
And now you have taken our God.
When our God came down from Heaven
He came among men, a Man,
Eating and drinking and working
As common people can;
And the common people received Him
While the rich men turned away.
But what have we to do with a God
To whom the rich men pray?
He hangs, a dead God, on your altars,
Who lived a Man among men,
You have taken away our Lord
And we cannot find Him again.
You have not left us a handful
Of even the earth He trod . . .
You have made Him a rich man's idol
Who came as a poor man's God.
He promised the poor His heaven,
He loved and lived with the poor;
He said that the rich man's shadow
Should never darken His door:
But bishops and priests lie softly,
Drink full and are fully fed
In the Name of the Lord, who had not
Where to lay His head.
This is the God you have stolen,
As you steal all else--in His name.
You have taken the ease and the honour,
Left us the toil and the shame.
You have chosen the seat of Dives,
We lie where Lazarus lay;
But, by God, we will not yield you our God,
You shall not take Him away.
All else we had you have taken;
All else, but not this, not this.
The God of Heaven is ours, is ours,
And the poor are His, are His.
Is He ours? Is He yours? Give answer!
For both He cannot be.
And if He is ours--O you rich men,
Then whose, in God's name, are ye?
poem by Edith Nesbit
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Millionaire
I said, Her from the city, so her got to be witty witty
She said, Him from the country, so him got to be funky funky
Mama, I'm a millionaire, but I feel like a bum
Mama, I'm a millionaire, but I feel like the only one
I I I I woke up early this mornin'. I don't think y'all heard me
I woke up early this mornin'. I don't think y'all heard me
I woke up early this mornin', I don't think y'all heard me
I said I woke up early this mornin' but I still ain't see the sun
Uh Uh Uh Oh Uh Oh (repeat three times)
Papa, I'm a millionaire
But Saks Fifth Ave. don't sell affection
(Saks Fifth Ave. don't sell affection)
Papa, I'm a millionaire
But I ain't moving in the right direction
Somethin' ain't right. I know.
I aint rich, til he is rich, til she is rich, til we is rich
Oh, I aint rich, til he is rich, til she is rich til we is rich (repeat twice)
(Andre 3000)
Where there is cheese, there are rats
Wherever there are rats, there are cats
Wherever there are cats there are dogs
If you got the dogs, you got bitches
Bitches always out to put their paws on your riches
If you got riches, you got glitches
If you got glitches in your life computer,
turn it off and then reboot her
Now you back on
Can't just put the cap on the old bottle once you pop it
That'll spoil it. Go on. Drink it and enjoy it.
Mama, I'm a millionaire.
What's a girl to do when she just has diamonds. No time. Just pay.
What's a girl to do? Instead of me; it's you. Be true
What's a girl to do in a world of greed but kneel and pray
What's a girl to do when she's lost her long time friends.
That's life.
song performed by by Kelis
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Strong Black Woman
Baby, such a long life, my child
So many stories I have to tell you
Of slavery and of tragedy
Sit down and listen to my tales
Everybody thinks that the strong black woman died
No, she only stood back because she had not cried
She took a minute to rest. She cried. Her heart so heavy
But she’s back, baby. And child, she’s so pretty
I’m a strong black woman, and I am fighting
Don’t mess with me; I’ll leave your eyes shining
I give these children all the love they crave
I’ll beat away any energy that makes life grave
Hallelujah, the strong black woman still lives
Hallelujah, the strong black woman still gives
Hallelujah, can you feel the strength of her?
Hallelujah, this woman is one you can’t deter
Praise the lord’s name and speak in tongues
May all the strong black women live so long
I am a strong black woman, I am here
A strong black woman lives in my heart
Hallelujah, the black woman is so strong
Hallelujah, this has become my favorite song
Hallelujah, the strong black woman prospers
Hallelujah, she is no different than her brothers
The strong black woman never died, she lives
See, no matter what happens she always survives
I am here, I am a strong black woman, in disguise
And this newly strong black woman never dies
Praise the lord’s name the black woman is back
Now the world knows that we survive any attack
Give her all the suffering children or people in despair
Because the strong black woman will return them to air
The strong black woman was not lynched or killed
She gave herself a proud face and lived on so skilled
Praise the lord’s name and know that she lives on
Hallelujah, the strong black woman will never be gone
poem by German Alcala
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Hey Mr. Millionaire (live)
Went down across that borderline
Down in the planet Mexico.
Bought some tequila big sack o whack.
I let go the Peso; I couldnt get back.
Hey, Mr. Millionaire! Hey, Mr. Millionaire!
Can you loan this poor-boy a dime?
Walking and crossing the border line
Way on the planet London.
Bought a Rolls Royce and a Jaguar;
It DOES in fact matter how rich you are.
Hey, Mr. Millionaire! Hey, Mr. Million!
Can you loan this poor-boy a dime?
I moved on across that borderline
Deep on the planet Louisiana.
Threw some dice it was oh, so nice,
But it left me eatin red beans & rice.
Hey, Mr. Millionaire! Hey, Mr. Million!
Could you loan this poor-boy a dime?
Hey, Mr. Millionaire! Hey, Mr. Million!
Loan this poor-boy a dime.
Loan this poor-boy a dime.
Turn yourself into a BANKER!
He-e-ey! [He-e-ey!]
He-e-ey! [He-e-ey!]
Hey! [Hey!]
Hey! [Hey!]
Hey! [Hey!] Hey! [Hey!]
Hey! [Hey!]
Hey! [Hey!]
Hey! [Hey!] Hey! [Hey!] Hey! [Hey!] Hey! [Hey!]
song performed by by ZZ Top
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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King Goodheart
There lived a King, as I've been told
In the wonder-working days of old,
When hearts were twice as good as gold,
And twenty times as mellow.
Good temper triumphed in his face,
And in his heart he found a place
For all the erring human race
And every wretched fellow.
When he had Rhenish wine to drink
It made him very sad to think
That some, at junket or at jink,
Must be content with toddy:
He wished all men as rich as he
(And he was rich as rich could be),
So to the top of every tree
Promoted everybody.
Ambassadors cropped up like hay,
Prime Ministers and such as they
Grew like asparagus in May,
And Dukes were three a penny:
Lord Chancellors were cheap as sprats,
And Bishops in their shovel hats
Were plentiful as tabby cats -
If possible, too many.
On every side Field-Marshals gleamed,
Small beer were Lords-Lieutenants deemed,
With Admirals the ocean teemed,
All round his wide dominions;
And Party Leaders you might meet
In twos and threes in every street
Maintaining, with no little heat,
Their various opinions.
That King, although no one denies,
His heart was of abnormal size,
Yet he'd have acted otherwise
If he had been acuter.
The end is easily foretold,
When every blessed thing you hold
Is made of silver, or of gold,
You long for simple pewter.
When you have nothing else to wear
But cloth of gold and satins rare,
For cloth of gold you cease to care -
Up goes the price of shoddy:
In short, whoever you may be,
To this conclusion you'll agree,
When every one is somebody,
Then no one's anybody!
poem by William Schwenck Gilbert
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Back In Time
Last night; I went back in time
To see my wife if we never had met
I saw my ways, and my upcoming days
And my soul, was full of regret.
She wasn't there, but was in my prayer
As I surveyed the new life that I lived
And I walked alone, in my empty home
As my love for her I couldn't give.
I looked for her, and she couldn't be found
Last night when I went back in time,
So I searched her world, left nothing unfurled
But for her, nothing about her could I find.
So without me she took another path
Because then we had never met
But I stayed on that road, until I died old
Because no other woman in my heart would I let.
Then I had my thought when I awoke from my dream
And my woman she couldn't be found
So I closed my eyes and I sat down to cry
As my world was flipped upside down.
I remember now that she had left me
To be in the arms of another man
She was my love my life, my woman my wife
Now she's holding another mans heart and hand.
Why she left me; GOD will only know
But the love I felt once will never be mine,
I did nothing wrong, just loved her to strong,
Now again I wish, to go back in time.
Randy L. McClave
poem by Randy McClave
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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My Poor Friend (come back!)
My Friend,
Come back
Please
We still need you,
Please! ! !
Come back!
Back to school again...
Study with us again...
Laugh again...
Let us see your handsome face again!
Let us hear your voice again!
Please...!
Come back! !
For the love that we gave you,
For the love that remind you.
We hope you know that we love you
And always will!
Please come back!
We know that you're a strong person, very strong!
We know that you brave...
And
We know that you can get through of anything!
Please,
Come back...
We will wait for you...,
Every second in our life we think of you
And
Every step that we take it's you in our memory...
Please come back!
We have faith on you!
Please come back! ! !
Everyday, we hope that this is just a dream and
When we wake up, we will see you again!
Come to school again!
With a smile on your face! !
Like before,
Handsome and charming! ! !
Please come back!
My friend
We really love you!
Come back...
We need you!
Come back....
We miss your stupid jokes
We miss your voice!
We miss your killer smile...!
We miss YOU! ! !
Come back!
Please! !
Come back
And
We’ll be waiting
poem by Qistina Zaini
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Get An Answer
Man is not made known by his richness
But by simple logic of his humbleness
A poor man can be so rich in his heritage
Rest all the qualities come in later stage
“Will you like a glass of water” asked old man
It was scorching heat for any human
I was on way to a another town
Had chosen path of my own
I could read those worry lines
He was still standing on side line
He was no relative but only a stranger
I was much impressed and wanted to know more
This morning only someone had asked me question
What really makes man rich in sense and in relation?
I was in dilemma to answer but it touched inner core
I had to struggle hard for answer and explore
I thought of this old man and got answer
Such qualities may be had by fewer
They are happiest persons in the world
I would be so much lucky if find such safe fold
“Not by what you get but by what you give”
“Not by revenge but how you pardon or forgive”
These were all good signs of richness
This gave me an answer and brought shine on the face
It may necessary to have enough of fortune
Luxury and comfort in life with harmony and tune
Yet it is not everything if we compare to what others have
Kind gesture makes them rich and brave
The life has taught us to be little liberal
We may not spend on causes considered to be noble
Yet turn out and behavior makes it all important
Rich or poor may just be stage but one should not be ignorant
poem by Hasmukh Amathalal
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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