The Dwellers
It was known as the street of despair, where the homeless
And destitute lived- but no one cared!
They all turned their backs
It wasn’t hard to do, because it
Wasn’t anyone that they knew.
They lived in abandoned buildings
with no heat or water, but respect for each other
And their own type of order.
They still walked with a sense of pride
And on each other they did rely…
They created their own commune
And each child had their own room.
The men would go out and look
For jobs that would pay by the day.
They built a playground where the
Children could play.
Lawn maintenance and painting jobs
Could always be found, and at days end
They’d lay their money down.
Although they did not live
The same as you and me
But They lived comfortably.
They would buy five gallons of water
So that they could sponge bathe
For their lives had completely changed.
They bought portable stoves
So that the women could cook.
A little ingenuity was all it took.
They would buy clean clothes for
The children to wear, for that was
The only thing for which they cared.
A proper education was their goal
They would not allow it to be taken away
Exchanged, or stole.
They lived and worked together with one
Thing in mind, that these children would
Live better in a different place and time.
These are the true DWELLERS
That you don’t often hear about
For there is no one there to tell
Their stories and scream and shout.
poem by Louis Rams
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Related quotes
I Walked Last Night In A District I Lived In For Almost Twenty Years
I WALKED LAST NIGHT IN A DISTRICT I LIVED IN FOR ALMOST TWENTY YEARS
I walked last night in a district I lived in for almost twenty years
I came back after being away for a time
To visit an old and ailing friend
The streets were empty and lonely as they often were then-
I thought for the first time I understood how lonely the district itself is-
‘A lonely district’
I wondered how I managed to live there all those years
And how anyone still manages to live there-
I looked up at the sky and wrote in my mind a small poem of a kind I wrote many of in my years there
I remembered teachers and friends who had lived there
No longer of this district or any district on earth
I wondered how life goes and how from so many years so much life has been lived without having any place in my memory
I felt as empty inside as the district without
I did not have to wait long for the bus
And relieved inside it I put my heart to home
So many years had been lived there
I remembered taking my small children to the playground there
Now they thank G-d have children of their own
Oh the years go by and the life we have lived in them largely dies
Forever to be unknown again-
I put my heart and mind in a different direction
And began to do what I always do – not think of the district again
Life is this mystery and question we live through and never wholly possess even as we are experiencing it
How long before all will be gone for me
Including the district I live in now?
poem by Shalom Freedman
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Unwanted Children
when i looked into this childs eyes
i saw the hurt, the pain, and i began to cry.
it was a house of despair
the homeless and unwanted children
all lived there.
all their lives they searched for love
and a place to live
so much love they had to give.
all they wanted or needed
was a loving family.
is this too much to ask from you or me?
how can we go to bed, when they
have no place to rest their heads.
how can we expect these children to survive
when we turn our backs
and close our eyes.
i heard adults say: why should i shed a tear
for a child i did not conceive.
why should i be the one to bereave.
do we still not cry for the death of CHRIST?
he was conceived by another.
wouldn't you be proud
to have been his father or mother?
GOD put all these children on this earth
more than gold i think they; re worth.
let's get them out of that house of despair
and show them all that we do care.
a lttle step goes a long way
and it'll be done day by day.
poem by Louis Rams
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The War Of The Children
The child abuse has been the war of the children
It is going on for too long in a world like this
The children is the victim of it
It is the children who suffers more each day
Stop the child abuse now
We want to put an end to this war
Make the public aware that this exists
Love the children with all your heart
Make the children feel worth
Make them feel special
Show them respect and let them respect you
Because respect and love is a two way thing
Respect the children wishes
Make this world a safe place for our children
Teach them to listened
Let them feel welcome in this world
Let the children live there lives
When you abuse the children
You break there hearts, you are destroying there dreams
And the respect they have for you is lost
What do you get when you abuse the children?
You get no satisfaction
The children have lost there sense of worth
They don’t feel special anymore
And they don’t feel safe anymore
The children know whom they can trust and whom they can’t
Help the children to grow in a safe environment
Feel there hearts with laughter and take there sadness away
Give them the support they need each day as they live there lives
poem by Aldo Kraas
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Love Of A Parent
They had married at a very young age
At the time they thought it was a game.
They had been together for a long time
and he thought that everything would be fine.
They had lived together for two years or more
And they thought they knew the score.
At seventeen years of age they felt they knew it all
And life was to have a ball.
With part time jobs they paid their bills
Living together was such a thrill.
Not having to worry about a curfew hour
Now ' they had all the power'.
Going out partying every weekend
Not thinking of the money that they spent.
Coming home late at night, being drunk
They would start to fight.
She started feeling some menstruation pain
And from this point on their lives would change.
She went to her doctor to check it out
Pregnant she was - there was no doubt.
Now their eyes opened to the fact
From this point on there was no turning back.
They now had a child on the way
And they could no longer go out to play.
He got a full time job and straightened up his act
And a better position he would have to attack.
He went back to school To get a better education
And to give his wife and child all that he could give
And with both their incomes they would have to live.
She worked for seven months till she
Could work no longer, and to get their house in order.
When she went to the hospital because her time was due
She found out she was having not one but two.
She gave birth to a beautiful boy and girl
He was a diamond and she a pearl.
The most precious babies you'd ever want to see
And he was the proud father - as proud as can be.
They struggled like most couples do
But he was determined to see it through.
She took her children and held them tight
For in their faces she saw their fathers might.
His love so strong for his family
And this is what they all did see.
And the rest is history.
poem by Louis Rams
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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A Subconscious Vision
I dreamt I was an orphan boy
who lived in a far off land.
I had no shoes or socks to wear
and my pillow was a bag of sand.
My breakfast was a dug up root
my lunch was just the same.
Water was over two miles away,
and I lived with stomach pain.
Sometimes through constipation,
sometimes from nothing to eat,
sometimes from dirty water,
and sometimes from the heat.
I endured flies and mosquitoes,
and suffered from their disease.
Often I became sick with fever,
which brought me to my knees.
When stomach cramps visited my body,
and the pain wouldn't let me be,
I thought about the other children
far less fortunate than me.
poem by Orlando Belo
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Kill The Evil
It’s a beautiful land
It’s a home for many
Many lived with peace
Lived with unity and love
With smiles on each face
Children play with its mud
Farms dance with its soil
Rivers flow on its bed
Flowers glow all around
Nature loves that land
Life is very simple there
Children go to school
Men and Women work
Old ones enjoy life
People lived happily
People pray in church
People pray in mosque
People pray as they wish
It has different beliefs
But all are united
Its unity is questioned
Questioned by an evil
Its name is ‘WAR’
It bombed that land
And killed everything
Destroyed homes of many
Many lived in fear
Many cried in pain
In pain of lost ones
Taken away by evil
Some can’t kick football
Some can’t write proper
Some tears can’t run down
Many got wounded
Wounded by the evil
Schools got bombed
Books got burned
Playground in silent
Kids didn’t grow up
Evil axed even tulips
Farms caught fire
Fruits weren’t picked
Rivers flowed red
Water wasn’t tasted
Evil ruined the nature
Church bells stopped ringing
Mosque no longer stands
Culture no longer rejoiced
Beautiful land is ragged
In the hands of evil
Evil, who’s name is WAR
Its only aim is blood
Blood of many innocent lives
Life is the gift of god
God’s message is peace and love
So let’s spread his message
And kill this evil forever
And free this world forever
Forever from its bloody hands
Into the hands of peace forever
poem by Kranthi Pothineni
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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A Tribute to Our Beloved Mom, ‘STELLA’
(On The Occasion of her Sad Demise …)
Our mom is not alive anymore, oh!
She’s gone to be with God forever, so;
She had a sudden exit from the earth;
Nevertheless, it was a peaceful, death.
Last time I met her, she looked quite healthy;
She was already aged more than ninety;
Her talk and attitude had us impressed;
But in her heart of hearts, she was distressed.
She’d thought, her time had come to say ‘Good-bye’;
She lived as if she was ready to die;
She had prepared for this for quite a while;
She lived in fear of God but fearless style.
Her life was exemplary from the start;
She loved to live but knew she must depart;
She lived a simple life through sheer God’s will;
She kept her cool and wasn’t seriously ill.
We thank Thee God for taking her away!
We thank Thee for keeping her till this day;
To us, she looked so great, almost a Fay;
Her love, we children can never repay!
She looked after herself until the last;
She knew the present, future and the past;
She lived in high spirits, never downcast;
She walked and wrote and spoke so very fast.
We wondered if she was a living saint!
She was a workaholic all her life;
She was so smart in everything she did;
She kept her sanity until the end.
All children loved her very much by heart;
A tower of strength and good advice, she stayed;
She kept so calm in face of trying times;
She prayed the Holy rosary always!
She was the link to all our relatives;
She was beloved in all family circles;
She worked from dawn till dusk, until mid-night;
She was up in the morning ’fore the rest.
Oh, what a fine mother and wife, she was!
Oh, what a nice grand-mother, sibling too!
She was some kind of living library;
She consoled anyone who sought her aid.
Her will-power surprised us very much;
Her words of kindness had a magic touch;
She spoke effortlessly and heard our woes;
She loved all friends, strangers and even foes!
We feel so happy; yet, we want to cry!
We feel so sad but ecstatic as well;
We know our mother no more lives with us;
The loss is irreparable and true!
She left the world on Tuesday, St.Antony’s day!
That was the name of dad, her husband too;
She was so brave until the very last;
Today the earth’s star ‘Stella’ is heavened!
She was a lamp so bright atop life’s hill;
She lived by Word of God and by God’s will;
She served as example to all around;
Her life was founded upon holy ground!
She loved to serve the Almighty always;
She loved her children, husband, all her days;
Her love for God was firm and steadfast too;
For sake of God, her duties, she would do!
She’ll guide her children from her newer place;
In death, she wore a holy, smiling face;
She’s now a blessing for the human race;
Amongst women, she showed she was an ‘ace’!
Fondly dedicated to (late) Mrs. Stella Antoniswamy, CBE
By all her children, grand-children and their spouses
Copyright by Dr John Celes 27-04-2010
poem by John Celes
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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call-Encounter - walking with
The light
Came closer
Lived right
Next to me
I walked with it
Sometimes,
Sometimes it
Walked with me
When I walked not
With it
And made me be
When I was not.
Living In
The light it entered in
And lived inside of me
I lived in it,
Sometimes,
Sometimes it lived in me
When I lived not in it
And made me be
When I was not
Abiding In
I hold the light sometimes,
Sometimes the light holds me.
Until I reach the light
I live in mystery
poem by Mary Mc Creath
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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What If?
What if we lived in a world with no lies?
What if we lived in a world where no one dies?
Dies over a gun or a knife?
What if all mental illness was erased,
no one was crazy or two-faced?
What if there was no gossip about people anywhere?
What we lived in a world where everyone cared?
What if you never had to see child abuse,
no murder mysteries to solve with clues.
What if we lived in a world with no poverty?
Everyone had plenty with no adversity?
What if is in other dimensions,
maybe not ours for we might have no comprehension.
poem by Christina Sunrise
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Orphanage
the name says it all orphan age
they are orphans from birth
until they reach that age
that is how they got the name orphanage.
have you ever thought of the aches and pains
that they have gone through.
unlike me or you.
'we had parents' whether they were bad or good
we could not be misunderstood
but these children never had that chance
people would look at them and turn their glance.
they were also known as 'children of prey'
for the abuse would not go away.
they would be behind fences
in their ragged torn clothes
a disgusting sight to behold.
the urine stench would tickle your nose
as they held on the fence
in that sorrowful pose.
natted hair, dirty hands and faces.
torn shoes with no laces.
asking all who passed by
if they cared if they 'lived or died'.
people would hide their faces in shame
wondering if they could ever be the same.
for now these faces haunted them
wherever they would go.
and the love these kids would never know.
this is not an orphanage, but a house of horror
for these children there is no tomorrow.
they say the times have changed drastically
but that is something i do not see.
let's tear down these places
who steal childrens dreams
and let them live a life that's clean.
poem by Louis Rams
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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A Most Peculiar Man
He was A Most Peculiar Man.
That's what Mrs. Riordan said and she should know;
She lived upstairs from him
She said he was A Most Peculiar Man.
He was A Most Peculiar Man.
The lived all alone within a house,
Within a room, within himself,
A Most Peculiar Man.
He had no friends, he seldom spoke
And no one in turn ever spoke to him,
'Cause he wasn't friendly and he didn't care
And he wasn't like them.
Oh, no! he was A Most Peculiar Man.
He died last Saturday.
He turned on the gas and he went to sleep
With the windows closed so he'd never wake up
To his silent world and his tiny room;
And Mrs. Riordan says he has a brother somewhere
Who should be notified soon.
And all the people said, "What a shame that he's dead,
But wasn't he A Most Peculiar Man?
song performed by by Paul Simon
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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A Most Peculiar Man
He was a most peculiar man
That's what Mrs. Riordan says and she should know
She lived upstairs from him
She said he was a most peculiar man
He was a most peculiar man
He lived all alone within a house
Within a room, within himself
A most peculiar man
He had no friends, he seldom spoke
And no one in turn ever spoke to him
'Cause he wasn't friendly and he didn't care
And he wasn't like them
Oh no! He was a most peculiar man
He died last Saturday
He turned on the gas and he went to sleep
With the windows closed so he'd never wake up
To his silent world and his tiny room
And Mrs. Riordan says he has a brother somewhere
Who should be notified soon
And all the people said,
"What a shame that he's dead
But wasn't he a most peculiar man?
song performed by by Simon & Garfunkel
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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There Are No Children Here
The untrained eye
Walks down the street
And sees children
But they're not children
There are no children here
Adults look back
With hungry eyes
And someone thinks
''They're just children
With a mother and a father
Never any fear''
And they kid themselves
As there are no mothers
No fathers
Because there are no children here
Terror doesn't care
As they cry over there
It lets someone stare
Through the sight of a gun
Seeing everyone
And just for fun
Shoot them
People rush around crying
''But they were just children!
They were just children! ''
A man with a gun
Turns and runs
But as he does they hear
''They aren't children''
And
''They weren't children''
And
''You need to know:
There are no children here''
No one makes a sound
Listening to the truth he's found
And they know:
It's our fault
We didn't save them
We could have saved them
If we cared
There would be children here
poem by Violet Llewellyn
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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light-Mystery
The light
Came closer
Walked right
Next to me
I walked with it
Sometimes,
Sometimes it
Walked with me
Into my life
Where I walked not
With it
And made me be
What I was not.
The light it entered in
And lived inside of me
I lived in it,
Sometimes,
Sometimes it
lived in me
When I lived not in it
And made me be
When I was not
I hold the light sometimes,
Sometimes the light holds me.
Until I am the light
I live in mystery.
poem by Mary Mc Creath
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Children Should Not Have To Be Homeless
There are thousands of homeless children in Beijing in China though that is not suprising to hear
For where there is a huge population there is poverty too 'twould appear
And China to anywhere else is no different the rich getting richer they say
And just beyond the leafy suburb is the suburb of neglect and decay.
There are thousands of homeless children in New York though with that some may not agree
In America the great Land of commerce no such a thing as poverty?
But the facts of course will tell you differently and in a World of inequality
There too are children homeless and hungry in the so called Land of the free.
There are homeless children in London in England as well as in Paris in France
The poor children of the poor suburb in life they do not have a chance
Their parents in Jail for drug abuse they become the kids of the street
They search the rubbish bins for food in dark alleys and what others do throw out they eat.
There are homeless children in Sydney and Melbourne and anywhere else one might name
Though that does not seem to affect us we never reflect on our shame
That many should have to grow poorer for one to become a millionaire
In a truly egalatarian society would never be looked on as fair.
Children should not have to be homeless though born into abject poverty
They should not be punished for the sins of their parents so much for our humanity
And money to some all that matters and money is married to success
Whilst the children of the poor live homeless on the street of the No Fixed Address.
poem by Francis Duggan
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Before Your Love
I wonder how I ever made it through a day
How did I settle for a world with shades of gray?
When you go in circles all the scenery looks the same
And you don't know why
Then I looked into your eyes
And the road stretched out in front of me
And I realized
Chorus:
I never lived
Before your love
I never felt
Before your touch
I never needed anyone to make me feel alive
But then again
I wasn't really living
I never lived
Before your love
I wanted more than just an ordinary life
All of my dreams seemed like castles in the sky
I stand before you and my heart is in your hands
And I don't know how
I survived without your kiss
Cause you've given me a reason to exist
Chorus
I never lived before your love
And I don't know why
Why the sun decides to shine
But you breathed your love into just in time
I never lived
Before your love
I never felt
Before your touch
I never needed anyone to make me feel alive
But then again
I wasn't really living
I never lived
I never lived
Before your love
song performed by by Kelly Clarkson from American Idol
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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An Abused Child
' Please don't hit me anymore daddy, I love you, I'll stay in my bed'
He screamed back ' I'll make you wish you were dead'
But the belts weren't enough, he began to hit her with his fist
They both beat her for reasons they had put on that list
Crying and red welts covering her body so small
Her face bruised and bleeding, where he beat her into the wall
He jerked her up and tied her and tied her hands behind her back
Then he tied her feet together, really tight leaving no slack
He filled the tub with water as she lay bleeding on the floor
He then took her and put her in the water holding her head under like before
Her whole life was filled with pain and strife, so many fears
She thought everyone lived this way, all those years
People can't understand why she is so sad alot these days
Planted deep inside so much pain from the past, not a faze
She gets so sad her to hear about another child murdered or abused
Thrown away as everyday trash, broken, abandoned and bruised
My heart weeps for all the children who have been through this
The life I described used to be mine, all children don't live in bliss
We have to take action and protect these children now
Some won't live to share their story, but I will speak up, this I vow! ! !
By Dogs4donna
© 2009 Dogs4donna (All rights reserved)
poem by Donna Nimmo
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Stories Of Hope Series #1 living in poverty-the trapper and family
Born high in the mountains of Tennessee
With no running water, or electricity.
Living in rags that her father found in the woods
Was her only salvation, her only goods.
They put her in pampers that they had found
Dirty and filthy and pulled from the ground.
A rock stove and firewood
They would eat when they could.
He did fishing and trapping just to survive.
The closest neighbor was twenty miles away
By the time he walked there he would have to stay.
The neighbor would take all that he trapped
In return give him food, clothing, ammunition and fat.
The neighbor then told him:
This is no way to raise a child.
You’ve been in the mountains quite a while.
Things have changed drastically
In school is where this child should be.
This child must learn how to read and write
What you’re doing to her, just isn’t right.
He packed up his knapsack and up the mountain he fled
Putting her with other children, was something he did dread.
He finally got home where his wife and child awaited
He looked at them and then hesitated.
With gleams in their eyes of the goodies he brought.
The child looked in the bag for a doll that she sought.
Not finding the doll in the bag, she turned and walked
From the room looking so sad
She went outside deep in the woods
her head hung down and there she stood.
The tears started to form in her eyes
And then she did cry.
Her father saw this and his heart broke in two
Now he knew what he had to do.
The following morning he went back down the mountain again
To speak to his neighbor, his only friend.
He asked his friend what should I do
My daughter is suffering and feeling blue.
I don’t have the money to buy her things, or send her to school
And living in the mountains is not the right tool.
He said: you are a natural born mountain man
And for you I do have a plan.
How would you like to teach others how to survive
And into your mountains they would climb.
You can teach them how to hunt and fish
This is on a city dwellers wish list.
You will get paid for what you love to do
And to your heart you will be true.
Looking at his family and the way they lived
An education for his child he had to give.
His friend set up flyers and posted them all over town
And on the internet this mountain man was found.
He brought his child down from the mountain top
And until she had an education he would not stop.
She stayed with this neighbor and friend
And saw all that she had missed
She was in heaven, she was in bliss.
Her father now made enough to continue her education
And to learn those golden rules, now he knew she had the tools.
She grew up with hope in their heart
And her father and neighbor gave her the start.
Now don’t ever think that there is nothing
That you can’t do.
With hope in your heart, you can follow thru.
HOPE IS THE KEY TO SET OURSELVES FREE.
poem by Louis Rams
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Are They Children Of A Lesser GOD?
the children of this country should be happy as can be
for they do not have to live in such poverty.
most at least have clothes on their backs
a bed in which to sleep, and food
even if it's only once a day.
and they're taught how to pray.
we are much better off than other countries
around the world.
but try to tell that to the hungry boy or girl.
we are a nation from all walks of life
and have fought so that freedom can ring
and to our national anthem sing.
our children dream of things that they could be
because in this land, dreams can come true.
so let us now see what we can do
to help our brothers' me and you'.
the other child dreams of a warm bed
and a roof over their head.
a bath to wash off the dirt of the day away
a family member with whom they could stay.
clean clothes, clean socks, something which
they have not got.
food set on a table, and someone to help
them if their not able.
to be able to go to school, and learn the golden rule.
to be able to play in the streets
instead of digging in cans for something to eat.
to be able to see a doctor when they're not well
instead of being 'sent to hell'.
to be able to see love in an adults face
and not have to hide in fear and disgrace.
because they were abused by someone who did
not care, whether they lived or died.
and always told the same old lies.
are they children of a lessr GOD?
no! ! for GOD gave us all those rights
and we as adults have to stand up and fight.
stop the abuse in third world nations
let them see GODS creations.
stop the wars, stop the abuse
put the drugs we've got, to good use.
help the elderly, the young, the lame
for we are all the same.
we must practise what we preach it is
the only way that we could reach
all the children who were given to us from above
if they're shown kindness and love.
we won't be here to help them grow
so let's help them today
that much i know.
they are our future, can't you see
for tomorrow we'll be history.
poem by Louis Rams
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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There was a sweet lady
There was a sweet lady, named dame Murdoch, so true,
Who took to caring for many children like me and you;
The children's hospital was one of her places she cared about,
One thing was ths lady never got angry, or did shout.
She took the time to sit down, have a nice chat,
About sick children, who needed help, she got to that;
She raised help with money and support in every function,
Dame Murdoch, if you were running for mayor, you'd win the election.
Thank dear lady, you certainly gave in more ways than one,
You never gave in till the work for you was all done,
To live over the century, you've seen things come and go,
From every patient, family, friend, and everyone you did know.
Goodbye sweet lady, We'll see you in heavens hats so.
poem by Margaret Haig
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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