Phil Smith

Rookie - 47 Points (2nd July 1954 / Donald Victoria Australia)

Poverty - Poem by Phil Smith

I don't earn much money
Not eating isn't funny
I tried to get out of these rags
I was shocked at the price tags

I would wear clean socks
It's hard when home is a box
Self esteem is always low
Cheap wine gives us a glow

Try and get a job
When you look like a slob
The world just doesn't care
It's a sad life on welfare

Today is my birthday
No presents came my way
Christmas is the same
I am a man with no name

Winter is so cold
A thick coat is like gold
Where does my future lay
When I walk the streets all day

Hot days cold days wet days
Eating days hungry days lonely days
A life without cream and honey
Because I don't have any money

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Poem Submitted: Saturday, June 23, 2007

Poem Edited: Tuesday, March 15, 2011


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