A Window Into The World
The crow flaps its dark wings up there,
hungryor death,
and the dark opened its mouth down there,
hungry for poverty.
Both are permanent visitors on 134th street,
the street of my childhood,
where I returned to after fifty years of straying.
Nothing has changed,
apart from the poverty
which became bigger and darker.
The orphanage is still in the same place
where I used to daydream of the outside world
for hours, days and months on an end I used to stand by the window,
shyly stealing smiles from other kids
who cheerfully jumped around their parents,
dreaming that someday I might hold a child by their hand,
and walk far away from the orphanage.
But that world,
the world I used to watch with so much desire
through the little hole of poverty,
became even colder, lonelier and darker than the orphanage to me.
Yes, Lord, I admit to this standing next to the old orphanage's window,
from my dear and sad sight of the world,
that I am coming home poorer and lonelier,
much sadder and poorer
than I was back in my childhood,
because back then I was rich with youth and hope,
and now I am so hopelessly old and lonely.
I am looking at my old orphanage,
and Patrick's reverberant voice crosses my mind,
Patrick who is long since reading his dear little poems
to angels in white heavenly fields.
When I used to stray the dark streets of the world,
the memory of his precious and clear eyes
was my lighthouse,
and now I am left without youth and friends,
hopelessly old and lonely,
in the company of crows, darkness and poverty.
While I am standing at my little sight of the world,
the wind is carrying around the cigarette ember
along the street of my childhood,
leaving behind a fiery trail for my poverty,
and the old orphanage window,
my small sight of the world,
is creaking like the bones of an old homeless man,
as if it arrived at its end too.
I wonder how many views that old window had provided,
and how many gazes and scorn it withstood?
My old window into the world squeaked again,
and now I know that it is time for me to venture into the dark,
to return into the world,
because my old window
is providing a new hope and new view of the world
to a new resident of the orphanage now.
poem by Walter William Safar
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Related quotes
Window On The World
A broken promise I kept too long
A greasy shade and a curtain drawn
A broken glass and a heart gone wrong
That's my window on the world
A cup of coffee in a shaky hand
Waking up in a foreign land
Trying to act like I got something planned
That's my window on the world
That's my window on the world
Could you stand a little closer girl?
Don't let Mama cut those curls
That's my window on the world
In broad daylight that circus tent
Pulled up stakes, I don't know where it went
A closed dark room with a busted vent
That's my window on the world
I think about you and I'm countin sheep
I think about you then I can't sleep
I think the ocean is just so deep
That's my window on the world
That's my window on the world
Could you stand a little closer girl?
The Queen of Sheeba meets the Duke of Earl
That's my window on the world
Down on Indiana Avenue
Where some Jimmy men, they play the blues
I guess they were only passin through
That's my window on the world
That's my window on the world
Could you stand a little closer girl?
Don't let Mama cut those curls
That's my window on the world
song performed by by Jimmy Buffett
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Old-age Homes
People keep orphanage for puppies.
People keep orphanage for lame dogs.
No one keep orphanage for old dogs,
Who won't live more to wag at them.
Old men are poorly attended.
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
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If Life In The Human World We Live In
If life in the Human World we live in is in any way fair
None would have to grow poorer for every new millionaire
And none would have to live friendless and homeless and enough food for all to eat
And no such a place known as Poverty Street
In a fair World peace between former enemies would last
And war and it's bad memories a thing of the past
And former terrorists any excuse could not find
To wilfully maim and murder their fellow kind
Without terrorism and war, hunger, homelessness and poverty
What a beautiful World to live in it would be
But due to human greed mistrust exists everywhere
And no such a thing as a fair go for billions in the big World out there
A World free of extreme poverty that leads to crime
But that at least will not be in my lifetime.
poem by Francis Duggan
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Poverty In The 21st Century
It’s the 21st century
The media displays it day and night,
Poverty.
Poverty across the globe lies
Poverty cries out from the belly of little boys
Little girls, parents too
Desperately searching for food,
Shelter, clothing, for love,
Companion, for attention
Those with plenty, refuse
To amend, a world haunted by
Poverty.
Is poverty affecting the rich?
Are their poverty the same
As the poor in financial constrains?
For they, too, poverty of love
I see poverty in the learned
I see poverty in those whose
Selfish acts are destroying society.
I see poverty in all level of humanity
The world is still an imperfect place
Yet life is still beautiful, the wind
Blows, we see it not, give thanks
For what you possess, now go,
Help if you can along the way,
Help to eradicate poverty
In your surrounding, widen
Your boundary across your
Country, to nations of the world.
Help to fight poverty, now!
poem by Winston Harding
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On Poverty Street
On Poverty Street and Refugee camps far away
The struggles of life it goes on every day
The struggles to live in the face of despair
The have nots of the World have never been rare
The homeless and hungry obliged to sleep rough
And many far too many are doing it tough
And thousands are growing poorer for each new millionaire
No such a thing as equality in the big World out there
On the people of Poverty Street the drug dealers prey
For their own gain they treat their fellow human beings in a disrespectful way
For money to feed their addictions the poor sinned against turn to crime
And they end up in jail for a considerable time
On Poverty Street there is no cause for cheer
And of success stories from there one seldom does hear.
poem by Francis Duggan
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The Forgotten Hungry And Homeless
The forgotten hungry and homeless nowadays to be found everywhere
There are millions of them close to a billion in the bigger World out there
The refugees of drought stricken Lands and of warlords and the homeless of Poverty Street
Basic human rights of them are denied shelter from the weather and enough for to eat
In a Human World where everyone is supposed to be equal after all we breathe in the same air
But the poor and the homeless and the hungry cannot feel that life is very fair
The minority those who are too wealthy people with too much of everything
Are people that many look up to though their praises I cannot sing,
In an egalatarian Human World everyone would have a home to live in
And nobody would be without food and well dressed and not ragged and thin
The poor by the day growing poorer and that does seem a sad thing to say
And the refugee camps of the World are all overcrowded today,
'Tis sad to think that from the poverty of many that a minority does stand to gain
And I with enough of food and shelter have no reason for to complain.
poem by Francis Duggan
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So Many Poor Souls And Not Many Who Care
So many poor souls and not many who care
Are doing it quite tough in the big World out there
The homeless and hungry teenagers of poverty street
Are searching in rubbish bins for something to eat
The gap is increasing in the social divide
And millions are Stateless and Homeless and hungry World wide
The victims of droughts and wars and disease
In the refugee camps millions of refugees.
The marginalized are doing it quite tough
On poverty street they are sleeping rough
People should not have to go hungry in the World of today
But such is not the case that does seem sad to say
For one wealthy person thousands in poverty
Those who need far more than words of sympathy
People who look old before they reach their life's prime
To be born to poor parents is their only crime.
poem by Francis Duggan
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Home & the Butterfly
I built my life with muddy bricks and a tin sheet for the roof,
My history teacher suggests the name; poverty
But it's weather-beaten knows everybody.
Am I heavy to carry on your soft wings?
If you prefer I could have join your pilgrimage
Leaving all my burdens aside
I was carrying since my childhood.
I see the outer world through my little window, nothing; but gloomy.
Only I hear the secret murmur of the souls.
Red ants on the window sill very busy and I heard a butterfly's crying.
poem by Nimal Dunuhinga
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My father took me back home, back to Greenwich Village, and he thought by taking me out of the orphanage he'd be out of the World War too. But no way - they got him anyway. He went in the Navy and then I lived on the streets.
quote by Gregory Corso
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Uncle Salty
Uncle salty told me
Stories of the lonely
Baby, we can only come alive to me
Her man he was lusted
Daddy he was busted
They left her to be trusted
To the orphanage
But when she cried at night
No one cared
And when she cried at night
Went insane
Uncle salty told me
When she was just a baby
That she could buy a mabye
Someday shed see
Soon she found that money
Is love for all the others
The pushers and the shovers
Was the life to me
But when she cried at night
No one cared
And when she cried at night
Went insane
Oh, its a sunny day outside my window
Oh, its a sunny day outside my window
Oh, oh yeah
Oh, oh yeah
Now shes doin many
For money and the penny
Sell her for a penny or two or three
Hers is the cunnin
For men that come a runnin
They all come for fun and it seems to me
That when she cried at night
No one cared
And when she cried at night
Went insane
Oh, its a sunny day outside my window
Oh, its a sunny day outside my window
Oh, its a sunny day outside my window
Oh, its a sunny day outside my window
Oh, its a sunny day outside my window
Oh, its a sunny day outside my window
Oh, its a sunny day outside my window
Oh, its a sunny day outside my window
song performed by by Aerosmith
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Why Tell Me About It I know All Too Well
Why tell me about It I know all too well
That many are living in their Earthly Hell
The hungry the homeless the poor and downtrod
They must be the children of some Lesser God.
Why tell me about it I know for the have nots life must seem unfair
So many grow poorer for every new millionaire
The scourge of poverty rife in every Race
In a fair Human World this would not be the case.
Even in so called wealthy Nations poverty does abound
Not too far from where the rich live the homeless to be found
The streets of the poor suburb a breeding ground for crime
Where many don't live to enjoy their life's prime.
Why tell me about it of course I'm aware
That the poor of the World have never been rare
And millions are living in dire poverty
In a fair Human World this would never be.
poem by Francis Duggan
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We Need More Love And Understanding Of Others
We need more love and understanding of others in the World we live in today
Materialism and greed for money is the cause of spiritual decay
The gap between the haves and the have nots keeps widening and too many live in poverty
How can you feel love if you are hungry and homeless love doesn't bloom amongst penury
There are millions of angry people in the bigger World out there
And who can blame them for feeling unloved and of hope living in despair
They become poorer whilst a minority grow wealthier life on them is not very fair
Without food the body does not survive one cannot live entirely on air
The wealthy keep on getting wealthier money makes more money as some do say
The greed of some gives rise to poverty for others it does seem for to be this way
Some waste food the bounty of Nature whilst many don't have food to eat
The great gifts of love and understanding of others are strangers to poverty street
And the wealthy as ever growing wealthier in their case it is much wants more
In a World where millions are growing poorer the people we tend to ignore.
poem by Francis Duggan
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Outside My Picture Window
It has been said that there is a world outside my picture window and
Beyond the trees I see everyday and the sky, sometimes overcast and
Other days, when the sun rises early- I can see the sky and have often wondered if
There exists another world within our universe- I know that
There exists a world inside of my mind and
My pupils are the windows into which
People would look if I were to venture outward?
Beyond the sky, and beyond the sun-
Beyond that world inside my mind,
I would never know where there exists a place for me-
Last night outside of my window
I could see the stars- stars mean different things to different people as
Does the sun, the trees and this whole world outside-
The world inside my mind revolves about
The sun that shines upon my own horizon and
As for this world outside, all I can do is look- and to
See a tree, perhaps a single cloud and the grass that grows-
I have shut my mind to the people who live beyond
The trees, clouds and the grass that I can see-
That window opens to the world inside of my thoughts-
I have just shut and pulled the curtain to discourage all intruders-
I am lying by my window in total darkness now as I place my hand over my eyes,
Shutting out reality and now I can see mountains, flowering trees and
A creek flowing in which I can see my reflection and
I am running upon the grass that grows beneath my feet-
I believe I heard music playing inside the fortress of my mind-
It has been said there is a world outside and I have pulled the curtain
To the window once opened to veracity-
Darkness has never looked as beautiful as I am safe here in my solitude-
Even when the stars are shining and the sky is such a magnificent sight to see-
No place is as exquisite as the creek that runs through my inner space and
The sun inside the world of my thoughts that shines upon my horizon?
The stars are far away and all that is real, though just outside my picture window
I perceive as too far away for me to reach- I would touch the stars and I could be a dove
That can lift my wings and fly away from all that threatens, but only inside my dreams-
Children sing songs and read fairy tales and they believe and I believe that
The sun shines light upon their worlds and
Someday their dreams shall blossom as has mine and shall become their homes-
Home is the safe place inside a person's mind, not within the madding crowd that
Exists outside my picture window- even if the stars are always there- and
That unique and special sun shall just keep on shining upon the world of my dreams….
poem by Claudia Krizay
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Of The Selfish Side Of Humanity
Of the selfish side of Humanity I am only too aware
In a World where the self centred for the have nots one thought don't have to spare
Even in so called wealthy Democratic Countries poverty is not rare
And thousands must grow poorer for every new millionaire
So many Homeless and Stateless people in the bigger World out there
The have nots of Humanity are living everywhere
That all people are equal is born of a lie
But there is more to being Human than living for me, myself and I
In most cases those who talk of life choices do not know what they are on about
If they themselves life's necessities had never had to go without
If they themselves never lived as the homeless poor of Poor Poverty Street
Then their preaching is judgemental and their ideas are obsolete
To be born to poor parents and become Homeless is a thing that none would choose
In a Human World where for a minority to win so many have to lose.
poem by Francis Duggan
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Primrose Hill
A man opened his window and stared up primrose hill
Out there enjoying themselves Ive seen them from this sill
Green splashed with white and red going brown
Children baiting animals running up and down
I stare out of this window
See the world go past
Slipping from the newspapers stacked against the wall
Piles of colour supplements squeeze between his fall
For a fleeting second I was up that hill
Although Ive never been there I wish I was there still
I stare out of this window
See the world go past
Ive read and looked at everything
I know it off by heart
Deliveries every day newspapers and food
Never had to venture out the phone has been removed
Open up the window and stare up primrose hill
Sitting here its dark outside and everything is still
I stare out of this window
See the world go past
Ive read and looked at everything
I know it off by heart
song performed by by Madness
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Oddball In The Window
The boy sat at the window
Looking out at the other boys
Laughing and playing their games
Enjoying their childhood days
The boy hopes that they will cherish
Those blissful moments of youth
That have been stolen from him
Moments gone forever from his childhood days
He’s not crippled in body or mind
He’s not allowed outside to play
Those boys point and stare at the boy
They call the oddball in the window
His parents have imprisoned him
To wrap him up in cotton love
He is just to much a gift from god
He is their only precious child
The parents say it’s for his own good
He’s such a delicate child
He just sits at the window
Jealous of the children running free
He will never laugh with other children
He will never join in their games
He never smiles in photographs
He’s not enjoying his childhood days
He’s grown up now; still sitting at the window
His parents can’t get him to venture outside
Everyone passing takes time to point and stare
At the man they call
The oddball in the window
poem by Michael Micmac Mccrory
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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
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My Feelings of the Wrong and Innocent Part 1
I cry on a dark night.
In my room looking out the window
Nothing in sight,
Only my reflection out the window
As I cry.
I cry because I'm angry.
I see the boys in the street
With poor innocent ladies,
Scared to death, why?
As I cry.
47th street of Chicago filled with women
Trying to make a living.
They need guidence,
But who when all the women are gone
To takecare of their kids.
In my window I cry.
poem by Paris.O Johnson
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The Downfall Of Human Kind
The downfall of human kind it would seem to me
Are greed and corruption, homelessness and poverty
And patriotism and religion and National pride
All of these things lead to war and they are World-wide.
In a World where millions are dying of hunger and disease
The refugee camps are full of refugees
Millions displaced due to war and famine of great suffering they know
The people fleeing war zones with nowhere to go.
Even in so called wealthy Nations poverty is rife
And the ruthless look on the poor as the losers in life
Far too many homeless on poverty street
With nowhere to live and with little to eat.
Some grow wealthy and successful though they lie and cheat
The capitalist system has failed us complete
Thousands must grow poorer for every new millionaire
Do not tell me that the capitalist system is fair.
So much poverty in the big World out there
And so many are living in hopeless despair
But one falsehood with some sadness we recall
The lie we believed of a 'fair go for all'.
poem by Francis Duggan
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The Lonely Fool (The Window)
Here he lies in his grave,
The lonely fool,
In his lonely world,
He was trapped in his cage,
Where waited for a friend,
Someone, anyone to come,
He waited till he was beneath his tombstone,
But no one came,
As he watched,
From the only window in his prison,
The only link he ha d to the world outside,
His connection to others he knew,
Who did not know him,
He tried to escape so many times,
But ever time he exited one room,
He found himself in another lonely room,
Though all alike,
With the same window,
Still I each new room,
He felt lonelier inside,
poem by Paurakh Shrestha
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