Poverty Poem by Suzanne HIll
Poverty
Begging, begging, will you please give me food?
Their eyes are big ovals,
their lips chapped,
they litter the street.
Poverty means destruction,
destruction means fear.
While we sit in our homes,
feeling so safe.
Do we ever wonder whats going on out there?
its not our concern, is it?
He's not our race, why should we care?
For one day, we might be the ones sitting out there.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
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5/3/2024 11:30:49 AM # 1.0.0.1119
Very true....especially in these times...I invite you to read my poem...To Make The Pieces All Fit In...as it has similar emotions. Well done! Welcome new poet friend...PEACE