Walking along walls, looking down into pits of city
dwellers, seeing their vacant stares as they travel
down paths of homelessness.
Wasting away on city streets, in front of highrise
buildings full of wealth and absolutely no generosity.
Families torn apart and scattered to winds of fate,
no respite in sight.
Likelihood of ever having homes or three square meals
a day is highly unlikely.
Yet, owners of businesses and politicians can care
less as they travel in private jets and scurry away
to resorts all over the world, spending tax payers
hard-earned money, their version of welfare.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem