To Live In A Poor Place Or Suburb
To live in a poor Place or Suburb as bad as a punishable crime
That's how it is and always will be 'tis something that won't change in time
On the road that leads from the poor Suburb it is a long hike to success
Condemned by the street that you live on and condemned by your postal address
Condemned by the judgements of the judgemental to spend their lives in Earthly Hell
Few very few from the poor Suburb in life ever seem to do well
The judgemental arrogant talk of life choices but never of birth circumstance
The homeless youth of Poverty Street of success have such a slim chance
For them life is such a hard battle a tough steep climb all of the way
Where many are doomed for to die young and few live to be old and gray
Where so many do become outlaws and spend most of their lives in jail
They follow in parental footsteps from birth they are doomed for to fail
Those born and raised in the poor Place or Suburb have little hope of happiness
Their life journey is such a tough road with so little chance of success.
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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They Struggle Through Life
They struggle through life as they battle with stress
Those born and raised at an unfashionable address
It is a long hike to success and renown
For those who are born at the poor side of town.
Their parents in jail for serious crime
And they become hardened criminals before their life's prime
Homeless in their early teens life hardened and street wise
The wounded eagle from the ground cannot rise.
They are the poor souls on whom drug dealers prey
And from Poverty Street it does seem a long way
To the road to success from the pit of despair
From the poor side of town success stories are rare.
Like their parents of success they stand little chance
They are the poor victims of bad circumstance
Their sense of self esteem is damaged beyond repair
And you cannot tell me that all in life is fair.
poem by Francis Duggan
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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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Tis True What Is Said About People
'Tis true what is said about people that everyone has a life story to tell
Though not everybody's life story in book form a million copies would sell
The biography of a poor homeless person many would not be interested to read
Life's journey from the poorest suburb to success for most people never lead
The lives of elite sports people and celebrities and those of power and money makes the best sellers list
Just reading of and hearing about them the masses cannot seem to resist
Suppose we only admire in others what we ourselves aspire to be
Most wish to be wealthy and famous and none wish to live in poverty
Most do wish to be wealthy and famous and others their praises to sing
Suppose to wish to be loved and admired is quite human it does seem a natural thing
But the road to success is a steep road and few ever climb to renown
And what hope for the poor and the homeless who live in the poor side of the town?
You ask one of their life wishes poverty he or she never choose
But the sad thing about the Human World is that for one to win many must lose.
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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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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You Feel Sad And Down
You feel sad and down life is not always fair
And of hope for the future you are in despair
In that you are not alone people like you everywhere
But when the going gets tough the tough hang in there
'Life is not meant to be easy' according to George Bernard Shaw
Though on life your own conclusions you can draw
Life is never easy for those on the poor side of the town
Where many do only know of ill renown
The victims of poverty due to birth circumstance
At any success in life they do stand little chance
Out of work and the economy at present doing quite bad
But at least you were born to a good mum and dad
And you've never once been to Poverty Street
Where many are Homeless without food to eat.
poem by Francis Duggan
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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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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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For Millions Out There
For millions out there life is an Earthly Hell
Of hardship and suffering they only can tell
In camps overcrowded with climate and war refugees
Many suffer and die of hunger and disease.
Condemned to Homelessness, Statelessness and Poverty by birth circumstance
Of any success in life they do not stand a chance
The poor and forgotten not wanted anywhere
For many life can be so hard in the big World out there.
In the Human World where the gap between the haves and have nots keeps growing ever wide
Many do end their miserable lives in suicide
And more sad stories of oppression and dispossession we read of and hear every day
Equality from Humanity seems so far away.
A right to a fair go Human Society them does deny
Only to the lucky minority life choices apply
Of hardship and Homelessness and poverty they know
And in a time of economic depression and climate change their numbers do grow.
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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There Is No Such A Thing As A Truly Evil Person
There is no such a thing as a truly evil person though some in their life's journey have gone wrong
The worst of criminals do have some good in them not everyone can be mentally pure and mentally strong
Some morally damaged from their tough upbringing life's circumstance condemns them to a life of crime
They spent their teenage years on poverty street homeless and behind prison bars they spend their prime,
Not everyone are born to good parents in life they never did have a fair chance
Inlucky enough never to have a fair go the victims of the cruelest circumstance
'Tis easy for some for to be judgemental some seem to enjoy putting others down
But these people can count themselves lucky that they were not born on the poor side of the town
Where it is near impossible to become a success and where the majority are destined for to lose
Reminds me of a Native American saying never judge one until you walk in their shoes
'Tis easy so easy to call one evil as words are so easy to say
But hear no evil speak no evil a saying I recall from a very long bygone day
There is no such a thing as a truly evil person all children they are born free of sin
But human life is not unlike a horse race many must lose for one to have a win.
poem by Francis Duggan
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For Many Life's Road
For many life's road is uphill all of the way
From the moment they are born till their very last day
They know what it is like to know of poverty
To make do on little their life's destiny
I feel that good luck in life has been with me
I never was homeless or a refugee
I never did go to bed hungry at night
For many life it is a much tougher fight
You do not have to go far poor people to meet
There are so many of them on Poverty Street
From where they live 'tis a long road to renown
Their ill luck to be born on the poor side of the town
For to live as a pauper is something most would not choose
Yet in life for one to win many have to lose.
poem by Francis Duggan
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Forgotten People
In Council Flats live the forgotten people
At the slum end the poorer side of town
They live on welfare like their dads before them
And from where they live a long hike to renown.
They always wear their football scarves and beanies
And take them with them everywhere they go
They worship their football teams and football heroes
The only sort of culture that they know.
Their addresses they find not to their advantage
For employees employers look elsewhere
They tend to think that those living in the slum parts
Unfit for work and softened from welfare.
With the Council Flats the cops are well acquainted
They know it as a breeding ground for crime
There are not many there without crime record
Who have not been in jail and served out time.
Those born there are born to disadvantage
The expectations of them is to fail
How can you expect to end up a winner
If all your role models have been to jail? .
How can you expect to soar like an eagle
If you don't have the powerful wings to fly
If you don't have role models to inspire you
To have success in life you may not try? .
The politicians only call to see them
To beg them for their votes on voting day
But when they are elected to high office
From council flats they tend to keep away.
By circumstance of birth forgotten people
Condemned to life of crime and poverty
Still they are less impure in ways than many
Who have climbed to highest branch of success tree.
poem by Francis Duggan
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That Money Speaks Every Language
That money speaks every language has often been said before
And what also applies to money is much always wants more
And that moneyed people rule the World is something we all know
The more money they accumulate the more their power does grow.
Compared to those in poverty the millionaires seem few
And in saying that money speaks every language is not saying anything new
For every millionaire there is thousands in poverty
It is money and the lack of it that causes inequality.
That with money speaks every language most surely would agree
That's how it was and that's how it is and that's how 'twill always be
The poor sad pauper of the street to greatness none inspire
It is those who have heaps of money that others do admire.
Their dreams of success and wealth and fame so many do pursue
And that money speaks every language so happens to be true
For the poor of the poor suburb success seems far away
And the gap between the haves and the have nots is widening by the day.
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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In Big Brother's Eyes
You hang in there in life's battle though the going for you is tough
But to say the least you feel sad to know you are not good enough
To be rated by Big Brother as one who has achieved
For being a battler recognition as of yet you've not received
Battlers not seen as successful in the World of today
They are looked upon as losers that does seem quite sad to say
You do work hard for a living for very low take home pay
And to help out those in need of help you go out of your way
But in Big Brother's eyes you are a loser though your very best you try
'Tis a fact of life I speak of and facts one cannot deny
Big Brother disciples are judgemental and though you work hard they see that as to no avail
Every battler in the World their type have condemned to fail
But in the eyes of the non judgemental your life is a success
Though Big Brother and his disciples you have failed to impress.
poem by Francis Duggan
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The Children Of Poor And Dysfunctional Parents
The children of poor and dysfunctional parents of any success in life stand little chance
The odds seem stacked against them by their birth circumstance
For them life is an uphill battle a struggle every day
The lady of luck and fortune does never smile their way
Though some wealthy parents can also be dysfunctional it does seem fair to say
That the child born to such parents at least financially will be okay
For those who say money speaks every language are saying what is true
People respect people with money though respect they may not be due,
Pity the poor children who become homeless at a young age and become institutionalized
For most of them their full potential is never realized
In a fair Human World this would never be
By circumstance of birth I feel that good luck was with me
There are millions of homeless children in the World of today
Due to their circumstance of birth in which they had no say.
poem by Francis Duggan
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In A Human World Where Many Grow Poorer
In a Human World where many grow poorer for one to become a millionaire
Who can blame the forgotten have nots for thinking that life is unfair
The homeless poor of the big city to survive have to battle the odds
Many of them die in their twenties the children of the lesser gods,
The children of disadvantaged parents for them no such a thing as a fair go
A good home and a good education of such things they never will know
Compared to them I feel so lucky one might say a fortunate man
I have never been hungry or homeless at anytime in my life span
For the wealthy to grow wealthier the poor must grow poorer in a fair Human World this would not be
Far too many are disadvantaged and condemned to live in poverty
Even in the so called wealthy Nations the hidden poverty is rife
By circumstance of birth far too many are condemned to a miserable life
'Tis true enough we are mere mortals and to the scythe of the Reaper we fall
But in a Human World where many grow poorer no such a thing as a fair go for all.
poem by Francis Duggan
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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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