May see light
Days are not far off when we may see light
It is crusade and not the simple fight
It is not the time to prove who is wrong or right
The goal should not go out of sight
Single man may be strength provider
Let us not work as force divider
We are strong and united as ever
This will be remembered in history forever
Yes it is brittle battle
But test for proving the mantle
We will never loose it for coming days
This is only means available for non-violent way
Heads may roll and make the room
Corruption may not end but cast a doom
People may not longer be fooled
The temper may still go high and not cooled
The world has witnessed a simple switch over
Heads down in shame for searching the cover
No solution for immediate relief to poor
Time has come now to show them the door
They may go down today to resurface again
They are capable and have the vicious brain
They may find out the loop holes and escape route
Let us give final and decisive blow at the root
They have now known the public mood
Poor and helpless are without food
Billions are wasted on storage of grains
Poor cry and watch helplessly going them in drain
poem by Hasmukh Amathalal
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Related quotes
Enough of turmoil
The country has witnessed enough of turmoil
The public anger is on rise and mood boils
No one feels secure in present day leadership
The sea is not rough but threatening the ships
How to cope up with immoral forces?
They are roaming with honor without any remorse?
This is the scene of today’s politics
No morality, no principles and ethics
Who will bell the cat and save?
What country has not done for them and gave?
Poor are still poor and face with cruel misery
Who can think of little respite which is essential and necessary?
Don't be disheartened with recent happenings
It is good omen and nice beginning
The big heads are exposed for wrong doings
They will be shamed their human being
No notes may save from public ire
They will provide examples for satire
Country can not be bartered or traded
Punishment for wrong acts is now really dreaded
They will be on run and we may rejoice
People have no good option or choice
Students, industrialists and woman are not secured
Country’s future is not at all assured
When revolution takes many heads may roll on surface
They may have to reply to people and certainly face
The coming days may prove very crucial
The movement can not be called prejudicial or racial
It has backing of popular will and support
They can’t suppress their voice and resort to
Such action may prove their waterloo on ground
Such outrage and public defraud is never found
The country can be put on top of everything
No person is allowed to do contrary or something
People can tolerate it to a certain level
They have given them enough time to perform and excel
poem by Hasmukh Amathalal
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Might is right
It is always the fact that might is right
They will go on till the end to fight
They may do it with the speed of light
They have the wisdom and long sight
Small insects kill smaller one
Big also kill little one and go on
It is complete cycle of exploitation
Everybody looses in turn and in rotation
So if rich rule the scene then nothing wrong
Not all can be in race and come along
It is sheer coincidence that mighty rule
Otherwise not all the people are fool
Person with abundance can sustain losses
He may have no regret even if looses
This gives them little advantage
Rest all feel confined to cage
Once you are under domination you are bound to suffer
You may have no rights other than to differ
So poor remain poor and rich gets richer
Poor remain suppressed for times to come
Rich are dominating and always welcome
Corruption has engulfed poor and rich alike
Everybody is influenced and affected with hike
No one wants to remain as poor like
Rich too wants not to become poor and dislike
This is tendency that we feel pity for poor
We have seen them knocking the door
But it is the system that will remain forever
Even if God descends on earth it will be there
If you have same system with no discrimination
No one may work and develop alienation
They will feel free with passing of responsibility
Here comes then the end of clear and distinct ability
If you have system with loop holes anybody will escape
No one can restrict the temptation or put the cap
Only the poor fail to emerge for the want of resources
The powerful emerge and re-emerge with full force
The oppression part is little disturbing
No one can force or go on curbing
No one can be forced to undergo torture
Even God has made it very sure
The rich may have disliking for poor
Poor to may have tendency to show exit door
It has been clash of time for centuries and very old
No one can buy it or arguments can be sold
Lord may wish so for all His children
He may even grant the same blessing even
Yet that difference may remain and even if not
The needless wars might not have been fought
The human beings may create it to rule
They make use of all available tools
Rich may tackle poor and poor may tackle down trodden
As the system remains same with all the odds even
poem by Hasmukh Amathalal
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Insomnia
Reading magazines and counting sheep to pass the time away
Hoping that tomorrows gonna bring a smile home again
Images of palm trees swaying in the wind on south beach
Takes me back to better days, summer days the everglades in june
My brain, my poor brain
My brain, my poor brain
Im drinking myself to sleep again, nightnurse pills to keep me sane
Drinking myself to sleep again, insomnia
Flying high in golden skies, Im flicking channels in my mind
Finding my utopia a different chapter in a book
Thinking back to younger days as I escape in coopers break
It takes me back to 84 the futures knocking at my door
My brain, my poor brain
My brain, my poor brain
Im drinking myself to sleep again, nightnurse pills to keep me sane
Drinking myself to sleep again, insomnia Im drinking myself to sleep again, nightnurse pills to keep me sane
Drinking myself to sleep again, insomnia
Turning off a switch inside me, leaving all the stress behind me
Flying over streams and houses, passing over the wye valley
It takes me back to 84 the futures knocking at my door
My brain, my poor brain
Im drinking myself to sleep again, nightnurse pills to keep me sane
Drinking myself to sleep again, insomnia Im drinking myself to sleep again, nightnurse pills to keep me sane
Drinking myself to sleep again, insomnia Im drinking myself to sleep again, nightnurse pills to keep me sane
Drinking myself to sleep again, insomnia.
song performed by by Feeder
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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No dearth
You will find no such person on this beautiful earth
Even though there are many and has no dearth
The work done by them remains unsung
They are very much part of our living and remain among
Their life is simple and ideal
To many it may look unreal
Yet it is exemplary and praiseworthy
Let us pray for them for long life from almighty
Have you ever considered looking at their contribution?
No one takes pain even to look at proper distribution
The work for which it was intended looses its charm
It does great disservice and more harm
They suffered their whole life but never complained
They had full integrity, short of means still maintained
It was backed by strong will and full commitment
The public was behind it and had strong movement
Even though they may not be among us today
They have shown us the path and clean way
If we can pursue with little honesty
The happiness may descend and help to remove the poverty
Someone said” God resides in poor”
We should welcome him at the door
If no food or anything but give some kind reception
This will find favor with good conception
We have seen changes through ages
Yet we were fortunate enough to manage
Many people have come forward and gone
But it is always remembered the good work done
poem by Hasmukh Amathalal
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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As proud national
I fail to feel as proud Indian
As do the Africans and Americans
When time comes to proclaim as nationals?
To show the world that we are among equals
It has become imperative now to put a strong show
To let world know that we are zealous and determined to grow
No one can push us back so long as nation is concerned
Take us not as weak when table is likely to be turned
We can helplessly see the world divided over
Boundaries, nationalities and attachment find the cover
Poor countries are pushed to the brink and burdened
Kept under heavy heels and peace is never returned
We all know about the dark reality still fall for trap
As a strong nation that is not merely insult or slap
It is humiliation when your nose is pressed
You are forced to sign and troops are based
When I say I fail to be proud Indian
It proves to state that we have failed to be custodian
What our forefathers enshrined in constitution?
Protection to all with fine and neatly formed institution
I find no spirit whatsoever in given environment
Everywhere you find dissension and resentment
What has gone with system and with the people?
Why there is brewing of problems and troubles?
Why no elderly person is safe is his home?
Why do we find hostile reception and welcome?
Why there are day light murders and robberies?
What prevents them from removing the miseries?
I fail to corner two squares of meals
Thousands of tons rot in open and open to steal
Poor starve to death and grain goes in drain
There is systematic loot with powerful chain
My country was known as golden bird
Today no where it can be seen or traced
We are yet not that poor in natural wealth
It is taken off illegally and further pushing us to death
Security is compromised, police is on rampage
Leaders are proving helpless and unable to manage
How can I claim and prove to be proud and true national
When thousands die without medical care on arrival?
poem by Hasmukh Amathalal
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A change at the end
I may exclaim ”God my revenge is over”
All these years I was running for shelter and cover
can you see wounds inflicted on my body?
It is cruel tale but in fact done by somebody
I shall make him to pay dearly,
I have waited for it to happen but missed nearly,
I want no escape for him and allow him barely
She will never be seen in public life or seen rarely
I was simply her follower
She was one of my closest and among fewer
Her every appearance was making me to delight
I used to think about her and very eager to invite fight
She used to remain very cool and light
She will not appreciate any fight
She was of course not weakest object
She was there with full enthusiasm to inject
I never used to joke with her
She was not that cheap to be found here
I used to respect her sentiments and enjoy
She was source of happiness and joy
She may be proving very symbol of love,
I was never afraid to steer and drove
I preferred look down and not above
She simply laughed at me as she had nothing to prove
Today, I am different person and may draw sword,
prove my self worthy of her love without any word
No one can save her not even mighty Lord,
I shall block her from coming without tying cord
I watched her treacherous move
I stood helplessly and thought how to prove
I took all precaution and tried improve
She remained adamant and unmoved
I was burning inside with rage
I was knocking like wounded tiger in cage
Earth and stars may watch it helplessly
I shall stand in disgrace and shoot at aimlessly
It makes me insane with laud laugh
It has made me weak and not tough
I am determined to show my revenge coolly
I shall bear the pain later fully,
I think of blackening her face with dirt
This should only be punishment for flirt
Torture for long years on me should be fined,
I used to express happiness when she smiled,
and I may make it more interesting
It will be crucial time for testing
I shall not relax and go for resting
I am aghast at for such twisting
Love is known for sacrifice
No one can afford to loose and feel nice
She may not dare to come out for days
surely I will make it difficult for her always
I may remind her all time for her torture
She may always worry for her future
She may cry all the time to find insecure
I shall point at her and make it doubly sure
I have witnessed down trend
I was all the time ready to mend
She was not lover but as dear friend
I failed to know why she changed at the end
poem by Hasmukh Amathalal
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Don't Hurt
Don’t hurt the poor’ sentiments
They have nothing to offer as comments
They have pitiful eyes but not for offering curses
It may be certainly a pointer with tears
Don’t we feel shame when tons of grains are lost?
Only because we can’t store with safety even though needed most
Whom are we fooling to add the plight?
Is it humanity versus humanity fight?
I find no answer as we are not less than vultures
Take out the flash as and when found for sure
No sparing of any soul for greedy needs
Who are we going pay any heed?
We claim near to God yet involve in dirty game
We bow head before God but feel no shame
We yet to ask more blessings in our venture
This is how we see our glorious future
If people semi starved and kept at bay
Make it determined bid to stay away
It may engulf your complete empire
This is fact and not simple satire
Many empires have been lost and re-emerged
They are poor but never approach or come to urge
They have only open sky to look at nothing to worry
They may sleep with empty stomach but feel no sorry
Make a point not to waste a single grain
It may cause no stir but only amount to drain
Are we not making cruel joke by simply wasting
When millions of people go hungry and fasting
I read with concern all the revelation
It raises eyebrows with many questions
No one seems moved at the deterioration of store facility
People remain there and there with loss of enough quantity
It may not amount anything
But food can’t be supplanted for something
They need two time square meals
Only this much if we can do to heal
poem by Hasmukh Amathalal
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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For my country
What can I do or pray for my country?
Millions are starving and remain hungry
Precious time and money is spent on storage
The food grain is thrown away as garbage
We watch the show as very much disgusting
It is rotting in open ground and rusting
Not a single soul is raising voice
Where the words have gone with promises?
Plenty of grain is available
We can preserve stock and are capable
We do nothing to prevent the loss
We simply pray for only curse
Forget about economy and figures
What is in store for future?
How long you want people should die?
Do we have no remorse to feel shy?
We want to turn state into Welfare Empire
World is watching with and cutting satire
We are making it living hell for the poor
They have no place to go and find no door
Land grabbers and hoarders are enjoying heaven
Far cry and agony is not heard even
Politician make far reaching cry and remain silent
Humanity is on wane and completely absent
They see more profits in deaths
Even flowers have markets to lay wreath
Nothing is cheap and what is more ion demand?
All inferior quality products with famous brands
Who make take us to safety without tall promises?
When the loop holes will be filled with all the misses?
Earth has responded well with our sweat toil
Why are we hell bent upon to spoil?
Many more may die in days to come
Prices will be sky rocketing and welcomed
Death may welcome than living on ground
Is there any new formula to make for us or to be found?
Let us do no more curses?
We must feel ashamed of ourselves
How many millions more we would love to accumulate?
When your own existence has nothing to take credit or relate?
poem by Hasmukh Amathalal
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Should we feel
Should we feel ashamed of poor parent?
Is it the feeling so basic and inherent?
Can we make the difference not apparent?
What should and can be the real intent?
Do we need parents so rich?
Can they take us to highest peak or reach?
Can they make us to read human values?
Do they have any way to find the clues?
Can the poor parents prove to be real hindrance?
Can any one sight even single instance?
Are all big celebrities belonging to or from rich background?
Safe position and fortunes easily found
Poor parent never failed to teach
lessons of simplicity and hard work ready to preach
Never taught disobedience and rules to breach
Stories of fairly tales and not those of witch
May there be some compelling circumstances to yield
insistence for more efforts and hard labor in the field
Never to surrender or yield to pressure
Future for child always assure
It may not be matter of great concern
Can not disassociate self as matter of discern
Certainly Herculean task and very much on hand
Days are far off when child may grow and act as friend
Rich can afford and have an easy access
Relentless efforts for good education with no recess
Rich may prove and excel with his entire source
Poor may face problem but come out with force
Rich and poor really does not matter
Caliber is to be proved on simple platter
Not that rich may only shine
Poor may not leg behind and achieve the fine
Intelligence and personality is not anybody’s domain
Rich may find place and poor outside remain
Opportunities are open and free for all
Hard work and dedication is the final call
Strive so hard to reach on the top
Endless drive or progress non stop
What matters most is brilliant show?
River may remain calm after furious flow
Some of the youngsters blame the parent
For hardship and misery prevalent at present
There is lack of understanding and vision absent
It is like shadow on moon when looks like crescent
Many have come of their own despite being poor
Nothing prevented them from knocking the door
It was zeal and determined efforts to attain
Highest position and dignity to maintain
Good children bring credit to parent
They consider the opportunity as heavenly sent
What matters most is utilization of source?
It may shape the future with available force
poem by Hasmukh Amathalal
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Oh! onion
I have forgotten to test
Though you were cheap and best
Any time I was in position to cry
You have lost your charm, why?
Why all of sudden you have become celebrity
Is there improvement in your quality?
Do you think you are in formidable weapon?
Make us cry and push to death like serpent's venom
One of the poor men’s best companions
The so called name given as onions
How long will you compel to shed the tears?
Will we have to undergo burden and fear?
It has disappeared from the market
I have decided to forgo or forget
The name as such of onion
Though it remained the poor men’s diet as true champion
I would love to curse all those
Who have courage to hide it and dispose?
Snatch the food for their greedy wish
And pushing the persons to perish
A rare commodity now beyond reach
We have lost moral ground to preach
We have no soul left such to search
I can forget it as commodity as such
The democracy has become a biggest joke
Much legislation are passed and ordinances invoked
Poor watch helplessly and stand as provoked
The scenario is changed as everything is smoked
You have independent judiciary to safeguard interest
You have freedom of speech and serves as best
You are called master of destiny and luck
Still they are all out for your blood to suck
You live in wilderness as people come and rob
You wonder in world without having job’
You have nothing else to do except to rot
Still dream for shine after proving a blot
How many may be gifted with little fortune?
How far they will be fortunate enough to remain in tune?
Do they fear that their bread will be snatched one day?
If the person in street is pushed to commit in wrong way
I would love if it is declared as unsafe heaven
Where all wrong doers escape and enjoy even
Those hands which are meant for public good
Can successfully snatch slice of poor man’s food
We will be on path of successful march
It will be biggest show of deception and can be called as farce
We may succeed in concealing the naked truth
Everybody may feel pinch of salt when tongue is pressed between teeth
I can only pay almighty
To give them little sense and shower the pity
Think, what would have happened?
If the life span was never threatened
poem by Hasmukh Amathalal
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Lines are drawn
It is ignition with spark
Long drawn battle with very good start
No one thought of its long impact
It was noble and hilarious act
Young and old all in same race
Long aspirations and worry on the face
What country would get in return?
It is our duty to make the tide turn
The tempo has not died down
The battle lines are drawn
Come what may with next move
The public has point and strength to prove
Mind well it is popular will and fight
Everything g has gone with it very right
The wish and anger has given long wait
Now it has to meet the aspirations and its fate
They have fooled under the name of liberty
Democracy is allowed to die with pity
Rules are meant only for suppression
They enjoy complete facilities with concession
Not a day passes of without any scam
Billions are swindled and caught in cam
Yet no action for the want of proof
The judiciary is alone and aloof
Future may speak for its action
Public may resurface with reaction
This is just a trailer and may initiate strong move
Nothing stands good in public eyes to prove
Gandhian principles stand like rock even today
It has shown courage and glorious way
The tide and turn can be favored in public interest
The resistance offered is unique and best
poem by Hasmukh Amathalal
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Pleasure days
So far they were the days of pleasure
Nothing taken seriously life for sure
Days were passing like smooth river flow
Nights too were easily coming but ready to go
Time had come now to decide
Everything else was to be put aside
Think of best union possible and stay
Settle once for all and find reasonable way
Midnight knock always sacred
I feared and never dared
To venture out at night time
It was proving difficult sometimes
I had some unknown apprehensions
I had not find its mention
They were since long in mind
Now was the time to think and find
Any female may find it reasonable
To stay forever and find lovable
It is need and must be realized
I have worked on it and visualized
Little blow of wind knocks the window
I want the air to come in or allow
I give everything in and surrender
He may come in as plunderer
Yet it is alright and acceptable
As he is worthy and capable
He may take me thousands of miles away
Take into final embrace and stay
The whole world is by my side
Horizon has spread and become very wide
I have to take all worries off the mind
Reasonably adjust and always remain kind
poem by Hasmukh Amathalal
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Party lines
We collect funds on their names
Spend it on some other means
Poor suffer on many accounts
Nothing is reaching to them as an amount
All the schemes are for their well being
May be the real intent but not enough of doing
If whole of iceberg is earmarked
Only small piece may reach as marked
Not an ordinary human being may watch
The bread and other things being snatched
By a person who has no right to take away
Much awaited relief which has disappeared on the way
Life has become difficult to pull on
Not easy to find square meal and carry on
Many commit suicide and many resort to crimes
It is really termed as bad times
Government work on party lines
Population and other factors are put on sidelines
They have fixed time to function with mandate
They compromise on many things and accommodate
Large fund is laundered and sent out side
For family staying abroad to provide
The precious foreign currency for personal use
And poor at country side face simple refusal
There may be some difficulties
Legal hitch and poor fund utilities
Yet effective monitoring is their obligation
People in street may know nothing about situation
Let some facilities be availed by poor
Lt they not run from door to door
We are paying taxes for their upliftment
No one should come in their way at any moment
poem by Hasmukh Amathalal
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Give It Up
All for money
Nothing for time
We want to go
That's our human tight
They sleep on the door mat
They roam the streets
We got to help them
For our future people
We all keep talking 'bout
Brotherly love
The rich stay clean
And the poor gets the glove
I can't sleep at night
When I see their ages
The young and the old
Give it up
If I could only show you love
Baby
Give it up
If I could show you how I feel
Give it up
Give it up
Well, mama was talking
About the ways
They used to live in the early days
Things were simple
And value was right
Everybody got a chance
To live or die
Today you've got it
Tomorrow you don't
But I want more
Give it up
If I could only show you love
Baby
Give it up
If I could show you how I feel
Give it up
Give it up
Love
Give it up
Show your love yeah
Show your lvoe
Yeah, yeah, yeah
Give it up
Give it up
If I could only show you love
Baby
Give it up
If I could show you how I feel
Give it up
Give it up
song performed by by Haddaway
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Warheads
Hey kid,
Wanna have some fun?
Choose a side
And, heres your gun
Brought up,
Knowing right from wrong,
Squash the meek,
Inherit the strong
Just try and,
Cross the line,
Dont even bother
To waste my time
Whats that
Look in your eyes?
Its time I cut you,
Down to size
This world aint
Big enough for two,
And Ive got my
Sights on you
Would you like to be,
Im a warhead
Youre a warhead
A warhead just like me?
Hes a warhead
Shes a warhead
Watch em scream n yell
Would you like to be,
A warhead too
When I blow them
Straight to hell
Ramboy,
Its us and them
Just like your daddy
In vietnam
Monkey see,
Monkey do,
Your boys grown up
Just like you
This world aint
Big enough for two
And Ive got my
Eye on you
Chorus
Ive seen black heads,
White heads,
Red heads,
Dead heads,
Big heads,
Shit heads,
But, theres no heads
Like warheads!
song performed by by Extreme
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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No Law In Hand
Politics has become cheap game
Only country gets bad name
Unfair practice goes on
Fair name is always blown
How to share dais with their presence?
Why do we hate them at once?
Why do have they thick skin?
What is the motto behind political win?
Why poor not rise in rebellion?
Why do they watch merely from pavilion?
They have made it democratic field
Where only means available is to yield
Political means to amass wealth
Nation suffers poor financial health
Big or small countries suffer a lot
Poor nationals are simply in between caught
What all tricks do they employ to win election?
Dirty game is involved for shady selection
Religion is pitched and cast lines are clearly drawn
Money plays part and rest people are withdrawn
This can still be understood
Even if they promise you free food
Promise stars in day time
But it is to secure dynasty rule for life time
They will install any one they like
Prices may soar and any time hiked
Who cares even if you die or live in misery?
Their luxurious life is must and necessary
Believe me precious food grain is rotting in open
Poor has nothing to eat and for belly to fill in
Prices are sky rocketing and beyond reach
Only influential can survive to become rich
How can you name parliament as an institution?
Where open flight can be seen with continuation
Large numbers of representatives are law offenders
We are the culprit who act as medium for such grabbers
Still time is there to behave and act
Take no law in hand but react
Show them way towards door
Let sovereign state work for the down trodden and poor
poem by Hasmukh Amathalal
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The Great Chicago Fire
The great Chicago Fire, friends,
Will never be forgot;
In the history of Chicago
It will remain a darken spot.
It was a dreadful horrid sight
To see that City in flames;
But no human aid could save it,
For all skill was tried in vain.
In the year of 1871,
In October on the 8th,
The people in that City, then
Was full of life, and great.
Less than four days it lay in ruins,
That garden City, so great
Lay smouldering in ashes,
In a sad and pitiful state.
It was a sad, sad scene indeed,
To see the fire arise,
And hear the crackling of the flames
As it almost reached the skies,
And sadder still, to hear the moans,
Of people in the flames
Cry for help, and none could get,
Ah, die where they remained.
To see the people run for life;
Up and down the blazing streets,
To find then, their escape cut off
By the fiery flaming sheets,
And others hunting for some friend
That perhaps they never found,
Such weeping, wailing, never was known,
For a thousands miles around.
Some people were very wealthy
On the morning of the 10th.
But at the close of the evening,
Was poor, but felt content,
Glad to escape from harm with life
With friends they loved so well,
Some will try to gain more wisdom,
By the sad sight they beheld.
Five thousand people were homeless,
Sad wanderers in the streets,
With no shelter to cover them,
And no food had they to eat.
They wandered down by the lake side,
Lay down on the cold damp ground,
So tired and weary and homeless,
So the rich, the poor, was found.
Mothers with dear little infants,
Some clinging to the breast.
People of every description
All laid down there to rest,
With the sky as their covering,
Ah, pillows they had none.
Sad, oh sad, it must have been,
For those poor homeless ones.
Neighboring Cities sent comfort,
To the poor lone helpless ones,
And God will not forget them
In all the years to come.
Now the City of Chicago
Is built up anew once more,
And may it never be visited
With such a great fire no more.
poem by Julia A Moore
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Fashion Awards
Lets go down to the fashion show
With all the pretty people that you dont know
Well sit down in the velvet chairs
Theyll hand awards out for best hair
And if we dont win one, well, then
Well blow off our heads in despair
Well blow off our heads in despair
I smell magic in the room
Flashing lights and sonic booms
Lovely saps all without a care
Nobody said that the world was fair
And if they did say so, well, then
Well blow off our heads in despair
Well blow off our heads in despair
Lets go down to the fashion show
With all the pretty people and piles of blow
Well sit down in the velvet chairs
And hang on tight to our bus fare
And if it falls between the seats
Well blow off our heads in despair
Well blow off our heads in despair
song performed by by Eels
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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No Access To Fast Food, Branded Clothes And
The creation of nations,
that have passion,
for money and power,
is the absolute poverty.
Not having the access,
to shelter, food and clothing,
to have a healthy living.
Fifteen percent Americans,
fall under poverty line,
and they earn,
less than,
ONLY 22K American dollar,
per year.
In other parts of the world,
people live,
in appropriate poverty,
and they live on,
2 dollars a day,
six hundred dollars a year,
five people can eat,
have shelter and simple clothing,
still they are healthy.
slim and fit.
Europeans are clever,
to make the people to believe,
that they are poor,
earning only 800 Euro a month,
Which is above,
the average annual income,
of many developing nations,
where people have,
no access to any wealth and health.
All of us stay in the same earth,
but the value of properties,
and the rental acquired,
through the properties,
differ substantially.
Politicians of the poor nations,
have abysmal knowledge on economics.
To be a rich nation,
we should have values,
but these clowns are short sighted,
to look at the value,
of their own properties!
Do not say that they are poor,
because the term poor itself,
will be ashamed,
for using its credibility,
for wrong purpose.
Please do not call them poor,
when the nations are able to provide them,
the food, shelter and health care.
Find a suitable word,
and leave the poor alone,
who have no access,
to any of these comforts on their own,
and their nations,
are unable to provide them,
the access to the comfort.
Reason for writing this poem.
The feelings of the poor are the same through out the world, irrespective of the countries that they are staying, but the proper definition for poverty should be clarified before classifying the people as poor, which means the poor of one country may be considered as the rich in another country. Then what is the real meaning for poverty?
poem by Veeraiyah Subbulakshmi
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Freebies Bring No Smile
Our politicians used to say,
Let us see the God,
in the smiles of poor and destitute.
I ask them a simple question,
How long we have to be poor,
to see our Gods in our smiles.
We do not need subsidies,
we want opportunities,
to prove ourselves,
to prove our qualification,
to prove that we are human,
to feed our children,
to provide our families.
Take away the subsidies,
Give us the opportunities,
to toil on our own soil,
instead of digging,
the opportunity of another,
Who may be as poor as we are.
poem by Veeraiyah Subbulakshmi
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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