Necessity Is The Mother Of Invention. Poem by Tor Magnor Solvang

When the cupboard is bare and hunger calls,
We look around, past empty walls.
No bread to bake, no food to find,
A clever thought sparks in the mind.

Maybe a root, pulled from the ground,
Or wild berries, ripe and round.
A stick to dig, a leaf to hold,
A story of survival, brave and bold.

When the house is cold, and winter bites,
We gather sticks to make fires bright.
No woolly coat, no quilt to buy,
We find old rags, and try to try.

A stitch, a knot, a patch sewn tight,
To keep us warm through dark and night.
When problems loom, and ways are few,
Necessity will see us through.

It makes us look, it makes us see,
What wonders we can make, you and me.
When things are hard, and we must cope,
Invention blooms, a brand new hope.