The Poverty Wire

a poem by tobias kerins, UK

That hungry boy Oliver, he asked for more
The result he was chased, across the floor
The workhouse was mean, ruled by an iron fist
Without a care in the world, he was dismissed

The poor man that lives, upon the street
Is tired and homeless, has blisters on feet
Has to beg for food, from passers by
They just walk on, don’t look in the eye

Those that have had, their benefits halved
Are on the breadline, they’ve nearly starved
In desperation, they cry for help
All they get is screams, a ghastly yelp

The parent with children, who has tried so hard
Forever striving, so battle-scarred
They sought help, for their children to feed
No blood from stone, because stones can’t bleed

The one that suffers, with a matter of health
No credit rating, lacking in wealth
They too were in need, but were turned down flat
The cat had the cream, but this weren’t the cat

The one that can’t find, a simple job
To afford his food, to earn a few bob
Requires assistance, to the authorities turned
Fully chastised, had his fingers burned

There are many people, who are tossed on the fire
Ignored and hanged, by the poverty wire
All morals are gone, human decency spent
The poor and needy, or the rich and content

Think about this, because one day perhaps
You might hit rock bottom, and fit the caps
Worn by those who need, just the basics to live
So I urge you please, be positive

Who are we to judge, people who need
A basic in life, food to feed
In this world today, we can be so cruel
It’s like going back, to the days of gruel

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