Rolex on the wrist, flash car in the drive
Ice bucket cooling French champagne, happy to be alive
Country house immaculate looked after by a butler
High society dinner, knives and forks supplied by the master cutler
Millions in the bank, not earned but handed on a plate
Arriving in his private jet he orders caviar by the crate
Nothing could be finer when relaxing on a luxury liner
Poverty stricken homeless person shuffles in bare feet
Out of luck and down at heel he wanders up and down the street
On his own no one to turn to he thinks all hope is lost
Roof over his head is what he seeks hopefully at no cost
Men from the local church befriend him and turn his life around
Amazed by his change of fortune, off the streets safe and sound
Never give up if life seems bad, there are people out there who will make you glad
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem