Why is it that our culture are worlds apart.
I have life easy, they have it hard.
While i sleep on a bed, they sleep on grass.
I take my allowance, but they beg or fast
Sad is the reality of beggers so young.
The sad, sad, songs that they once sung.
Are all that never really mattered to some.
But to me, it lingers like a beating drum.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Goood Poem concerned about the dark side of the society.