Poverty...
As poverty struck the lands,
The people crying out,
How life is so devastating,
For money they only catch trout.
But in these sad lands,
Poverty struck, worst of all is disease,
It doesn't just destroy humans,
But all the wildlife and trees.
As the children die,
The parents can't do much,
They can hold their child,
In the tightest clutch.
Not to kill them of course,
But to exterminate the, sad feelings,
The only funeral to give,
Is one with prayers and kneeling.
But there's no fancy place,
To commemorate, the dead,
They're buried underground,
Not the nicest bed.
But there they lay, now free,
From the land they once knew,
Still cared for and remembered,
Their bodies lying askew.
But they don't get what we do,
No protection from disease,
Nothing from mosquitoes,
Or the deadly fleas.
Maybe whilst reading this poem,
Many would have died,
Maybe even parents,
And then the many, cried...
poem by Viraj Bhanshaly
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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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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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Child labor and poverty are inevitably bound together and if you continue to use the labor of children as the treatment for the social disease of poverty, you will have both poverty and child labor to the end of time.
quote by Grace Abbott
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Who Must Take Care of Old-aged Parents?
Which child will care for parents when old-aged?
Which child will show compassion and respect?
Which child will find the time to talk kind words?
Which child reciprocates their affection?
Gone are the days of joint family system!
Gone is the sense of values in people!
Gone are the times when blood was quite thicker!
Gone with the wind is honouring parents!
Have parents not showered love on children?
Have they not slogged to give them life's comforts?
Have they not nursed them whenev'r they fell ill?
Have they not done their duties to their kids?
The world today is selfish to the core;
Children just want the wealth of parents old;
None volunteer to tend to old parents;
Children show scarce love to their parents dear!
What has then come upon children today?
Who should take care of parents, elderly?
Should not one's children take care of parents?
Much love seems lost in families these days!
poem by John Celes
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Much Always Wants More
In the big World out there corruption is rife
And greed and deceit an accepted part of life
And the more money you have the more respect you know
And the gap between the haves and the have nots does grow,
The pollution of our greed is blowing in the breeze
And when we claim more land from Nature we unearth some new disease
A disease that for centuries lay dormant underground
Till we dig up the Earth's crust and spread it around
Though the Lands and the Oceans by them have been partly destroyed
Some people worth billions still not satisfied
What is best for Nature they choose to ignore
'Tis the same old story much always wants more
The one worth a billion is aiming for two
And what we do to our Earth Mother to our own selves we do.
poem by Francis Duggan
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Children's role after you:
Birthday: parents to children;
Death anniversary: children to parents;
Marriage: parents for children;
Funeral: children for parents;
Others for these have no right;
Others for these are unfit.
Parents must have these in mind
When they write the will.
15.04.2012
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
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My Mothers Life
Born into poverty, abandoned very young
No mother or lullabies to be sung
Left all alone, her the oldest of three
Boards nailed on the windows so they couldn't see
She would write on the wall, one mark each day
So she would know how long they'd been away
Dad said to her, mom is really sick
Got to get her to the hospital, need to go real quick
Take care of the kids till we get back
Not a light in the place, all was black
Barely any food for them all to eat
The room so drafty, there was no heat
One day when she had fourteen marks on the wall
She heard a man shout out a call
He told the others, I hear crying inside
Pulled the boards of the door, while they tried to hide
He told the others, these children need food and clothes
He sure glad he heard them before the building was bulldozed
He called child welfare, and ladies came out
They took these poor children without a doubt
They took these children to different foster parents
Their neglect and and poverty was quite apparent
Their parents never returned to get them back
But at least they weren't still living in that old shack
They all were adopted to different places
Never to hold or see each others faces
Helen was the oldest, the one who had cared for them
Haunted for life, from the memories that stem
I know this story oh so well
Because of the past her whole life was hell
I was her daughter, till she passed away
It effected my life too, I was others prey
She didn't know how to be a mother
All we three, her children had was one another
So I suffer the curse of loneliness and depression
I've been loved and another's possession
I've been abused, the pain goes deep
What other have sewn is what I've reaped
By Dogs4donna
© 2008 Dogs4donna (All rights reserved)
poem by Donna Nimmo
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Money Fever!
There's a great disease spreading
It's coming to us
That's where it's heading
A man saw some money
He picked it up
And he went crazy
I don't understand how money could do this
Perhaps it is magical, I muse
It certainly does not bring bliss
I see crowds of the infected
They can't let go of the money
It's so heavily protected
Money fever
Do I have it? Will I ever catch it?
I hope that the answer is never
I look around me
Carefully avoiding anymore spare change
It might be deadly
I see a man let go of his money, he gives it to me
His eyes are normal
The others with the crazy eyes say he is crazy
I dropp the money on the floor
A crowd swarms my feet
And the cash is no more
It only affects humans
It must be a man made disease
It makes sense
The money is never used
Just held in hands
It makes me confused
It's everywhere
The scientists don't care for a solution
Money Fever
It's fatal in every case
A deadly wound
To heal with haste
poem by Bradley Dean
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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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Peace Everywhere
Peace, everywhere, peace today!
Peace in lands of scruffy trees and pine,
Peace in lands of olives and wine,
Peace in lands where peaks are white,
Peace in lands where fields are bright.
Peace in lands of oasis and sand,
Peace in lands where people band,
Peace in lands where children play,
Peace in lands where people pray,
Peace in lands in the thick of the fight,
Peace in lands ruled by force and might.
Everywhere, everywhere, peace this day!
Pray that all world leaders lead the way,
Encouraging moral people to stand proud and tall,
No government too great, no nation too small.
poem by Joseph T. Renaldi
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Disease Of Conceit
Theres a whole lot of people suffering tonight from the disease of conceit
Theres a whole lot of people struggling tonight with the disease of conceit
Comes right down the highway, straight down the line
Rips into your senses, through your body and your mind
Nothing about it thats sweet
The disease of conceit
Theres a whole lot of hearts breaking tonight from the disease of conceit
Theres a whole lot of hearts shaking tonight from the disease of conceit
Steps into your room, eats into your soul
Over your senses you have no control
Aint nothing too discreet
About the disease of conceit
Theres a whole lot of people dying tonight from the disease of conceit
Theres a whole lot of people crying tonight from the disease of conceit
Comes right outta nowhere and youre down for the count
From the outside world the pressure will mount
Turn you into a piece of meat
The disease of conceit
Conceit is a disease but the doctors got no cure
They done a lot of research on it but what it is theyre still not sure
Theres a whole lot of people in trouble tonight from the disease of conceit
Theres a whole lot of people seein double tonight from the disease of conceit
If your delusions of grandeur and an evil eye
Give you the idea that youre too good to die
Then they bury you from your head to your feet
From the disease of conceit
song performed by by Bob Dylan
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Fireflies In The Dark
like fireflies in the dark,
those who stand firm are taken,
stamped, and put out...
you silence the human cries
of freedom, ban books,
ideas... ban all thinking.
take anything original
back to the assembly line;
to be remade, reformed....
in the image of mindless
obedience... trained to kill,
trained to follow... trained to hate.
while the lovers of trees, rivers,
and mountains... become
the new faceless minority....
in the land of coal dust excess,
the land of black and white tv.
poverty, disease, and drug abuse
will thin the ranks of the rebellious.
and children without hope
bury their children in dumpsters.
while the angry poets rage
having spent more, done more time...
in your prisons than in college.
and dead mothers walk the streets
crying bitter tears that fall unseen.
poem by Eric Cockrell
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Prayers of parents make a peaceful heaven to a home
Prayers of parents make a peaceful heaven to a home
The children who neglect their parents will be cursed,
The Nature makes such children’s house a hellish dome,
They are lucky children who are blessed by their parents,
It is said that there is a heaven under the legs of mother,
The children love or not to their mother but she loves all,
She embraces good or bad children but she can’t smother,
Mother is habituated to pray to God for all their happiness,
A few children won’t love their parents but love their wives,
In old age parents are in need of only their children’s love,
Who devote God, adore parents will be happy in their lives,
Love of parents always comes to children from the sky above,
God bless those children who are blessed by their parents,
And God curse those children who are cursed by their parents.
poem by INDIA Mazid S Kazi
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I've Heard Much Talk Of Darfur
I've heard much talk of Darfur though I've never been to there
Where people only live in hope and die slowly in despair
The tragic footage of there on the t v news brings it all home to me
Of what it must be like for those who live in abject poverty.
In a Land of war and droughts and famines where war lords rule by fear
Of any feel good and happy stories we never seem to hear
Where people die of hunger in their thousands every day
Man's inhumanity to man is alive and well today.
Where men and women look old before they reach their prime
To be born in the wrong place ought not to be a crime
The seeds they've planted for food have died and the parched ground is cracked and dry
And the warlords steal their food aid and the people starve and die.
A million people hungry for every billionaire
And the super wealthy getting wealthier doesn't life seem so
unfair
And poverty has it's root cause in man's inhumanity to man
And I feel sure that wealthy people also live in Darfur in Sudan.
Of late I have heard much news of Darfur and I've seen sad footage on t v
Of people due to no fault of their own in the worst of poverty
In a drought stricken Land ruled by Warlords the innocent die young
And are buried in mass graves and their praises remain unsung.
poem by Francis Duggan
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Daddy oh Daddy... Mummy Where Are You?
'A teenagers life as the dark shadows hover around her'
Daddy oh daddy...mum where are you?
...I wanted to do so much for you...just for you two
To a strange land i came just to be an asset to you
I hang down my head 'alone' as the axe comes through.....
She could have been a beauty queen.....
In the land of the earthly luxurious green!
My heart and mind with thoughts feelings in confusion do collide;
At what some parents do for an easy grand luxurious ride.....
Am now left with heart rending pain unexplainable feelings of nausea
As sounds all drown at the foolish parents and their unacceptable flaw
Hearing impaired, as it brings torment double trouble, deadly fear
Sadly these games some parents play for their days to steer cheer
Leaves a youth alone...'standing terrified' in MAYBE a death row
Darkness surrounding, hopes dimmed as the time..nearer it grows
In silence we pray to God for this soul so young immature and innocent
Who pays a price as to her 'duty by parents' she blindly lovingly lent
Greed for money poverty stricken she was sent to meet their needs
And to Hisotry she enters as a heartless careless a dark breed
A baby to NURSE, a motherly place to take, a change of 'age' they make
Expereince nil, limits unknown, the baby chokes to a never EVER AWAKE
Her youthful precious mind so naive she entered that errornous zone
A deadly crime, blood for blood her future was fatal she now moans
As she hangs her head down and cries, her family, the agents, hands tied
She is in the land of the sand dunes as she cease to be, a lesson to many who lied
The law of the land the parents agents as Muslims they obviously knew understood
But matters not, the wallets need to be filled for a prosperous fantasy mood.....
I wonder what the agents have to say as this young one now destroyed forever more
How do they walk while an innocent life is beyond repair and maybe soon no more!
poem by Shirani Ibrahim
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The Old Bloke With Heaps Of Money
The old bloke with heaps of money was buried yesterday
Yet for his funeral services and his burial the town charities will pay
For all the money that he had by him hidden away
At least a couple of million so those who knew him say.
He never fathered children he never had a wife
Earning money and hiding it was his great joy in life
He did not trust the banks at all so his millions he did hide
And of where his hidden fortune is the secret with him died.
He lived in a one bedrooom basement apartment he paid the cheapest rent
And he saved as much as he could save he never wasted a cent
In his very early seventies he died quite suddenly
The millionaire in money who died in poverty.
The old bloke with heaps of money was the meanest one in town
To be the town's greatest miser was his claim to renown
None ever sang his praises since praise he was not due
And where he hid his millions not one does have a clue.
poem by Francis Duggan
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This Poem Has Feelings
This poem has feelings
This a poem of sorrow, hurt and pain
This is a poem of struggle, sufferation and poverty
This poem has feelings
Stabbing beats
kill my joy with a sad song
This poem will speak
This poem will fight
This poem is angry
This poem has feelings
Cruel thoughts run and rule my thinking
Uncognitive, unrational, jut cold and hardhearted
This poem has feelings
poem by Zanele Mavuso
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I'll always be daddy's girl
i went through life wondering about
what the future would hold
would i be dirt poor or
would i have lots of gold
my child hood ended up being messy
as things started to collapse
my family falling apart
no time for the relapse
my parents got divorced
my sister and i were given away
to foster homes and families
never had a place to stay
my father suddenly died
from a heart disease
my mother on the other hand
has bipolar head to feet
my sister thinks she is depressed
why am i the only one that can see
the world can be a happy place
frighten free
poem by Danyell Demm
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Many Say Our Life's Journey
Many say our life's journey is fashioned from the life choices we make
That due to poor decisions the wrong road we do take
But assumptions to make to some people do come easily
The people who discount what is known as life's destiny,
The child born of parents living in poverty
Disadvantaged from birth what life choice has she or he?
Homeless as teenagers with little to eat
On the dingy sidewalks of Poverty Street
Life choices not for those of the poor streets of town
For most from there life's journey never leads to renown
Homeless as teenagers they turn to drugs and crime
And like their parents before them serve many years of jail time
Life choices are not for everyone it does seem to me
Though with me on this one many would disagree.
poem by Francis Duggan
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It's A Disease
Prejudice is a disease.
Unlike deadly viruses;
West Nile and S.A.R.S
Prejudice does not harm you.
Prejudice is an alcohol,
that brain-washes you.
Makes you think some people
deserve less than you
because they are different.
Just because their skin colour is different
Or because they dress differently.
Maybe because of their differences in religion
or because of their difference in sexuality.
The truth is,
Prejudice may not be able to harm you,
But it is the deadliest disease that ever entered our planet.
It is this disease that gets people murdered,
and then some thrown in jail.
It is this disease that starts gangs against people who are different.
And it is this disease that has our world in a problem today.
So whatever you do,
Never let this disease into your body
or else you life will be gone-forever.