Francis Duggan Poverty Poems

At least spare a thought for the children the children of Poverty Street
They are homeless as young teenagers and against the odds they must compete
Their parents serving time for robbery and narcotic offences and most of their role models in jail
Their circumstance of birth is a huge mark against them the poor young people destined to fail.
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It is true poverty is a relative thing
A poor bloke buys his girlfriend a ten dollar ring
But to a pauper one with ten dollars is not poor at all
What to one seems big to another seems small,
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I over heard two fellows arguing about poverty
Whilst I sat in the cafe drinking coffee
And in truth I could not help but overhear them
As they sat at the next table to me.
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In a Nation of many well off people they call it hidden poverty
The poor souls of the back streets that the wealthy never see
They live in condemned houses that are clearly in decay
And out of sight is out of mind or so 'twould seem that way.
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Who knows in years from now I may be like the old bloke in the wheelchair
Pushed by his old wife along the street he is in need of love and care
The independence that he once enjoyed from him forever gone
But till the reaper claims the life from him he feels he must live on,
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You will find poverty in the U S and Great Britain, in France and in Japan,
In Canada and in Australia, New Zealand as well as Iran
In South America and Europe, Africa and all through Asia as well
Throughout the Human World some in their Earthly Hell
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A mother and grandmother near the end of her life
To an unworthy fellow she was a good wife
Without provocation her he often did beat
But at least she feels happy she is not on the street
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Her dad is in jail for drug trafficking and she hasn't seen him for years
And her mother is in an asylum a victim of phobias and fears
She's been on the streets since she was fourteen and she knows all the tricks of her trade
She sells her favours to buy heroin and nothing of her life she's made.
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You do always find some reason for to complain
Yet you have never known the feeling of hunger pain
And you have never been homeless as many poor people are
Where real poverty is one does not need to walk far
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The gap between the wealthy and the poor is increasing by the day
Inequality is rife despite what some may say
In climate and drought and in war refugees
Poverty does come in varying degrees
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Confined in Northampton Asylum for years
He knew about poverty and sadness and tears
As a Nature poet of the English language with the best he does compare
The poet of all Seasons the amazing John Clare
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Confined in Northampton Asylum for years
He knew about poverty and sadness and tears
As a Nature poet of the English language with the best he does compare
The poet of all Seasons the amazing John Clare
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Some people in life they do it so tough
And often are hungry and live and sleep rough
The hard done by life of the social divide
The goddess of luck she is not on their side
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You may be materially successful and doing well financially
But if you are narrow in your thinking you suffer of mind poverty
Not generous in your ways it does seem by your own narrow guidelines you do live
You find it so easy to receive but you find it so hard for to give
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Life is hard for those on the wrong side of the social divide
At a time when the gap between the haves and the have nots it is growing ever wide
On this matter with those who say such is life i am not one to agree
The unequal distribution of wealth does seem all wrong to me
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He's a bit old to be worried by life's common cares
The depressed economy and falling stocks and shares
Since he has heaps of money far more than enough
To last him till he die though he feels life on him is tough
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From where the Christmas spirit does seem far away
Christmas day on Poverty Street just another day
No decorations, Santa or carol singers on the side of the town
On the street where only the friendless and homeless do walk up and down
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That millions do live in poverty should never be seen as okay
The gap between the haves and the have nots keeps getting bigger by the day
Everyone should have the chance to live happy a home to live in and enough for to eat
There never should be slums and ghettos and never a poverty street,
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On Poverty Street and Refugee camps far away
The struggles of life it goes on every day
The struggles to live in the face of despair
The have nots of the World have never been rare
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The most I can offer you is sympathy
That life can be a bugger one would have to agree
Your mind it is ravaged by financial worries and care
The spectre of poverty at you does stare
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