The Poor Sought Poem by Randy McClave

The poor don't feel hunger
Because, they are always hungry,
As if babies when they were younger
While surviving in their country.
The poor has very few possessions
Very little do they have or own,
Their life is full of hurt and depressions
As on the street they always sleep and roam.
Many will walk by and ridicule them
Telling them to go out and get a job,
Never do they smile or sing them a hymn
And no one cares or asks why they sob.
Their clothes are worn are tore
And many years outdated,
Sadness and hurt and pain they bore
They are always mocked and hated.
The poor sits on the corner
Asking/ begging for change now and then,
Unto some they are seen as a foreigner
As if they are evil and have committed a sin.
A poor man laid and was covered with soars
A rich man mocked him while wearing fine clothes in a Mercedes,
The poor man died and then entered heaven's doors
The rich man died and for torment he was sent to hades.
When death arrives in the very end
When many finally find pain and some find serenity,
Remember, death is a poor man's best friend
And it's a rich man's truest enemy.

Randy L. McClave