Watching you sift through a garbage can,
I wonder if poverty is close at hand?
Hurried thoughts of hunger pangs
Continue to salivate from my glands.
Tired feet scuttle quickly by,
Trying to hide those foreboding eyes,
That speak to us of hunger and pain,
Of families that languish just the same.
What can we do to soften their demise?
Must we always try to run and hide?
For fear of relinquishing
Our most precious possessions;
Forbidding us to help those human beings
Desperately crying out to be healed;
Answers not the prayer's of our Lord Jesus
Begging us to heed and help the poor;
So that we may radiate from spreading joy,
And heaven and earth can sing and rejoice!
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem