Mark Heathcote Poems
Poverty Is A Gift
Father, poverty is a gift
Ask any bird taking a rain bath.
Son, don't make's me laugh
There's nothing but rain
Poverty isn't a gift
There's nothing but pain.
So son fastens your reigns
Ride for them riches today
Don't live by wage's daily
Paid only once monthly
Father poverty is a gift.
Son nothing is ever enough,
Just ask your mum.
The Sins Of Seduction
May the world rub shoulders with you in friendship
May its Seven seas buoy us up in comradeship
May the celestial stars in heaven shine upon you
May these mountains fade behind your shadow.
And guide your every footstep on a righteous path
And of scars how many must we carry, I ask you…
Does not the weight of it make us all desperadoes
How many tears spilt make an ocean, do the math.