Lily Palmer
She doesn't ask much of life poor Lily Palmer
Just a small cabin by the Gippsland sea
Where she might sleep and from the weather shelter
'Your dreams are small when you're in poverty'.
Her life's belongings in a shopping trolley
She push it up through Bourke Street Mall each day
A tattered figure amongst the wealthy shoppers
She show her years in wrinkles and in gray.
Some look at her with looks of human pity
Whilst some with looks of scorn ask who is she?
But she has learnt to cope with disapproval
Nor does she welcome looks of sympathy.
The Salvation Army give her food and clothing
Without their help by now she may be dead
And she sleep on hard bench at Spencer Street Station
I do not envy Lily her cold bed.
She's sixty six too old for the rough lifestyle
And far too old for sleeping in the damp and cold
Life's never easy for the poor and needy
And so much harder for the poor and old.
It has been said she has a son and daughter
And that she has not laid eyes on them for years
She raised them on her own when times were better
But for her past she doesn't shed any tears.
Faces of wealth and affluence all around me
And amongst them the face of poverty I see
Through Bourke street Mall poor Lily slowly shuffles
Indifferent to both scorn and sympathy.
Still she has her dream and her dream seem quite modest
A small cabin in Gippsland somewhere by the sea
Where she might sleep and shelter from the weather
Your dreams are small when you're in poverty.
poem by Francis Duggan
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The Darker Side Of Sydney
There's more than glitz and glamour to Australia's biggest city Sydney has it's darker side
I've seen so many young people there their lives by drugs and booze destroyed
By trees in small parks and dimly lit laneways they sleep on the hard and bare ground
Near to where there's wealth and opulence there's great poverty to be found.
Many seem to think that for their poverty they only have themselves to blame
That they are lacking in their self worth and do not have a sense of shame
That they spend all of their welfare money on the buying of narcotics and booze
But it doesn't seem right to judge somebody if you have not walked in their shoes.
For to support their vices they must sleep rough and live on the cheap
And in the laneway off of Bourke St on the hard concrete they sleep
Yet I dare not criticize them and of them can only say
That they are the less fortunate of people and in life have lost their way.
One could say that their vices for them are now out of their control
But the weakness of the flesh is not a weakness of the soul
The soul of the poor and down and out despite the body's disrepair
Can have far more depth and feeling than the soul of the millionaire.
Australia's largest city to so many a sense of pride
But despite it's wealth and opulence Sydney has a darker side
And where there is glitter and glamour such great poverty abound
And far too many people living poor there and sleeping rough on the bare ground.
poem by Francis Duggan
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Poor Children
They are the future of humanity
But many of them living in poverty
And without shelter homeless on the street
Searching through rubbish bins for scraps of food to eat.
Poor children are victims of circumstance
In life they never really get a chance
Or have opportunities as privileged children do
The road from the poor suburb to prison leads them to.
From broken homes they are condemned to fail
Their abusive and drug addicted parents serving time in jail
Their parents too homeless in their teen years
On no hope street no laugther only tears.
The Government does not care about those who live in poverty
No political advantage in philanthropy do they see
Their tally men for them have taken note
That few in the poor suburb ever bother for to vote.
Poor children without homes and sleeping rough
And life for them already hard enough
At the wrong end of the social divide
Any chance of a good future to them is denied.
poem by Francis Duggan
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The Children Of Poverty Street
At least spare a thought for the children the children of Poverty Street
They are homeless as young teenagers and against the odds they must compete
Their parents serving time for robbery and narcotic offences and most of their role models in jail
Their circumstance of birth is a huge mark against them the poor young people destined to fail.
They steal for to buy food, drugs and alcohol on Poverty Street life is tough
Too young much too young to be homeless without shelter and sleeping rough
They are pushed to the social fringes the young people society disown
Ignored by the Government Bureaucracies and to the Police only known.
Who could envy them their existence those born into cruel circumstance
The Gods are completely against them of success they do not stand a chance
For them life is such a great battle they must battle their ghosts of despair
They don't even dream of the good life to them life is very unfair.
You who waffle on of life's choices with you talk is always so cheap
Bet you were not homeless at thirteen and on a park bench had to sleep
You would not talk of life's choices if you had to steal for to eat
If you felt alone and abandoned like the children of Poverty Street.
poem by Francis Duggan
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Poverty Is A Relative Thing
It is true poverty is a relative thing
A poor bloke buys his girlfriend a ten dollar ring
But to a pauper one with ten dollars is not poor at all
What to one seems big to another seems small,
That poverty is a relative thing seems so true
You may well be poor but many poorer than you
There are millions of homeless on Poverty Street
Searching in rubbish bins to find something to eat
And there are millions who lay down to rest hungry at night
And sleep in the open under the starlight
At least you have a roof over your head and a bed on which to lie
And it will not be of malnutrition that you will die
And of those down on their luck the singer may sing
But poverty can be a relative thing.
poem by Francis Duggan
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Many Must Grow Poorer
Millions will go to bed hungry tonight that does seem sad to say
And many of them will not wake again for to see another day
The sad fact that many die of malnutrition is sad cause for lament
Whilst billions in war by Governments are spent
Even in the World's wealthiest Nations people live in abject poverty
And the unequal distribution of wealth does seem all wrong to me
The wealthy getting wealthier whilst the homeless of poverty street
Are searching in the rubbish for thrown out food to eat
To have enough of food and shelter should be a basic human right
But millions must try to sleep hungry without shelter tonight
And many cannot feed their families on their meagre take home pay
In an egalatarian World things would never be this way
And many must grow poorer for every new millionaire
And for the hungry millions doesn't life seem so unfair.
poem by Francis Duggan
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You Say About Life
You say about life that life for all is fair
You must have been talking to a billionaire
You want to know about life go to Poverty Street
And those who are doing it hard there you will meet.
The homeless and down and outs doing it tough
Without food or shelter obliged to sleep rough
That life for all is fair is so easy to say
For one like you with a good job and great take home pay.
On your philosophies on life I for one don't agree
So why bother waste your time on talking to me
Since I believe life's only fair for a minority
And not for the poor billions in poverty.
Your opinions are your's and that suits me fine
But your views on life are quite different to mine
With a great job, new home and healthy kids and a beautiful young wife
You are not one to be saying of a fair for all life.
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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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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My Bowl Be Shared!
if wealth causes indifference,
apathy, and insulated selfish behavior...
let me be poor until i die.
let me be rich in my poverty...
and feel every small wound,
share every small sorrow,
dance with every small joy...
let me struggle with my brothers
to find human simple dreams.
let me feel companionship,
both the good and the bad.
and let me sleep with caring....
let my hands get dirty,
let my bowl be shared!
poem by Eric Cockrell
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Just Wealthy Whingers
Why do some very wealthy people see fit for to complain
When they already have more than enough seems beyond me to explain
Since to whinge they do not have a reason it does occur to me
That their money is not an antidote for their spiritual poverty
Worth millions in money and assets but it does seem sad to say
That their type more to be pitied spiritually poor in their small way
Like 'tis said much always wants more in their case this does apply
Why some wealthy people crave for more I really wonder why
Not far from their leafy suburb live the poor of poverty street
The homeless and the down and outs who never have enough to eat
Five hundred thousand dollars in yearly profit after tax and they complain for us not a good year
The more some have the more some want or so it does appear
They are just wealthy whingers some are so hard to please
In a World where millions of poor people are dying of hunger and disease.
poem by Francis Duggan
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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 So Called Good Economic Managers
Due to Government mismanagement we see a society in decay
And the wealthy at the expense of the poor get wealthier it should never be that way
In so called affluent Western Nations people live rough on the street
Without a place to call home to out of rubbish bins they eat.
The Government due to so called good economic management get re-elected but the poor getting more poor
And for the youth of the poor Suburbs job opportunities are fewer
And many young people never find employment because of their address
And lack of career opportunities give rise to feelings of hopelessness.
Life is tough for those in the poor Suburbs where poverty is rife
From the day that they are born they must struggle on through life
The Monarch became Monarch due to birthright doesn't life seem so unfair
Whilst millions are dying of hunger in the bigger World out there.
The so called good economic managers are back in power again
But from their good economic management only the wealthy gain
And even in so called wealthy Western Nations there is widespread poverty
And more people dying of malnutrition than ever before in the twenty first century.
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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A Lovely Old Lady
Her smile it betrays her for her rotting teeth
That lovely old lady that I often meet
Out walking in the park or on the main street
Too careless of her looks to know of conceit.
The story of her life may never be told
Alone and forgotten she is growing old
For empty bottles that she sell for a few pence she searches every rubbish bin
A tiny financial reward for her seems such a big win.
For those on the poverty line their needs are small
What sort of a World do we live in at all?
The gap between the haves and the have nots has grown ever wide
The face of hidden poverty we no longer can hide.
From amongst the wealthy who pride themselves in their generosity
One need not travel far for to see poverty
In a World where many lust for wealth and fame
For the multiplying poor we must all take the blame.
A lovely old lady her I often meet
She doesn't have money for to fix up her teeth
She never ignores me as I pass her by
With her toothless smile she always says hi.
poem by Francis Duggan
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You Feel That The World Is Against You
You feel that the World is against you and nothing for you is going right
And you struggle just for to make ends meet and life is a hard uphill fight
But than you there are far worse off people though you do not see things that way
In Rwanda a Country in Africa teenagers to support their families work today.
Their parents by war taken from them and the eldest members of the family
Must work for to support their younger siblings they only know of poverty
In our society you may seem a poor man but poverty one can compare
And in the eyes of a Rwandan you would be a multi billionaire.
On five hundred dollars a week take home pay you support your two young children and your wife
As well as buy food, pay bills and the mortgage you do know about the hard life
In this Land they call you a battler you struggle just for to get by
Though the millions of battlers of Rwanda would say that the good life you enjoy.
You feel the whole World is against you a poor fellow on a poor street
But your fridge of food never empty and you and your family
have plenty to eat
And the hungry poor of Rwanda with you only would disagree
They would see you as a wealthy person for they know of extreme poverty
poem by Francis Duggan
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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
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In Many Ways
Of elite athletes, celebrities and the rich and famous the praises you will hear so many sing
But they are mortals they don't live forever for human life is a temporary thing
All I ask of life is to be happy just for the remainder of my life span
It would be nice to grow old free of sadness and die painless in my sleep a happy man
In many ways I do feel very lucky when my lot in life with others I compare
So many people poor, hungry and Homeless and Stateless in the bigger World out there
What they would give to be lucky as I am at least I have a roof above my head
So many poor and hungry and sad people who sad to say feel envious of the dead
So many poor people in refugee camps they are the people of no fixed abode
The victims of Warlords and droughts and famines their life journey has been a hard old road
'Tis sad to think of the sadness all around us the Homeless children of poverty street
Who search in rubbish bins in the dark alleys for food that others have refused to eat
In many ways I do feel very lucky so many people far worse off than me
In the bigger World out there much want and sadness and many people live in poverty.
poem by Francis Duggan
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I Already Know
There's no need to tell me I already know
That money on trees never blossoms or grow
Forty thousand in poverty for every millionaire
It is a rat race in the big World out there.
A long road to financial success and renown
For those who are born in the poor side of town
Condemned to be poor by their postal address
Without the right postal code the highbrows you won't impress.
It is common knowledge most will tell you so
'Tis not how clever you are it is who you do know
A wealthy person to you can be a good friend
A poor one has little money for to give or to lend.
In life I've been lucky quite lucky enough
I've never been hungry or had to sleep rough
I've never been Homeless or a Stateless refugee
Though I am aware of others poverty.
I already know you don't have to tell me
That money does not grow on a bush or a tree
Yet whilst some are worth millions and billions in money it seems sad to say
That many are dying of hunger every day.
poem by Francis Duggan
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Oh To Be Wealthy And Famous
Oh to be wealthy and famous living in a big house by the sea
With a Rolls Royce in my garage of money worries quite free
Seen as a successful person with heaps of money to spend
Everyone would want to know me everyone would be my friend.
I could help the poor and needy for others I could do good
I could help you out then poor fellow instead of saying I would help you if I could
Money it speaks every language pity the poor and downtrod
Surely there is nothing greater than money the great paper god.
I could do wonders with money help those in dire poverty
Be an example to others to worthy causes donate generously
Instead I struggle for survival one of the poor of our Street
Life for me an uphill battle struggling for to make ends meet.
Oh to be wealthy and famous the wealthiest man in the Town
I could be generous with money help those financially down
Instead I am just a poor battler who would wish to be my friend
I who must be careful with money and count every dollar I spend?
poem by Francis Duggan
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That Millions Do Live In Poverty
That millions do live in poverty should never be seen as okay
The gap between the haves and the have nots keeps getting bigger by the day
Everyone should have the chance to live happy a home to live in and enough for to eat
There never should be slums and ghettos and never a poverty street,
That millions are born to live in poverty and to end their hard lives in despair
Only tells us if there's a god that god favours the wealthy and that god is not very fair
To leave millions homeless and dying of malnutrition the people condemned to die poor and young
In the refugee camps of the World live the displaced, the poor and unsung,
In the age of celebrity worship the poor in millions multiply
Why millions are destined to be poor don't ask me I wouldn't know why
Even in the World's wealthiest Countries poor people are no longer rare
And millions and millions of have nots in the bigger World out there
And millions are dying of hunger and millions are doing it tough
And millions are displaced and homeless and as refugees living it rough.
poem by Francis Duggan
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