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Poems On / About POVERTY  8/20/2014 11:20:07 PM
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Best Poems About / On POVERTY
 
 
 
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  41.     

Poverty Grass

Wild horses we
Pricked at the wind,
Never to know, alas;
That all the lord of our fortunes bought
For us
Was poverty grass.

Poverty grass
The paupered seed
So sickly poor, alas;
The souls of the great untamed grow weak
Despair
On poverty grass.

And you, my friend,
Grew sick awhile,
And cried and cried, alas;
While I grew fat on a flowering weed
Called pride
And poverty grass.

And when you left
The field to me
I almost died, alas;
For I was left in a fallow field
Piled high
In poverty grass.

Wild horses we
Pricked at the wind,
Never to know, alas;
That all the lord of our fortunes bought
For us
Was poverty grass.

24 January 1980
 
David Lewis Paget

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  42.     

O' Murderous Poverty

O' poverty, thou hast made man prostrate his soul for repast
Thou hast made him swallow the bitter pills of living
Yet thou sing songs of death to his hearing
O' murderous poverty, thou art cruel and fiend.

In thy bosom cometh suffering, pains and sorrows
Thou taketh delight when the world's burden heaped upon man
Man toil in vain for subsistence from sunrise to sunset
Yet thou castigate him with thy unseen wand
O' murderous poverty, thou art cruel and fiend.

Man roams about the street with no shoes for his feet
And with no vest upon his already worn out bones
Having his repast from the table crumbs of other folks
Not certain of where the next crumbs of survival cometh
Yet you castigate him with thy unseen wand
O' murderous poverty, thou art cruel and fiend.

His offspring sick and pale then die ere his face
His heart become a place where dirge and elegy meet
And he ask 'Poverty, why thou puncture the tube of my happiness?
Why art thou the architect of man's sorrows and grieves'.
Yet thou castigate him with thy unseen wand
O' murderous poverty, thou art cruel, cruel, cruel even fiend.
 
LIGHTCHEERFUL BRIGGS

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  43.     

WHEN DOES POVERTY GET POOR




Seated in the confinds of poverty, dressed in overall butten up to his neck
and close fitted shoes that elope the streets,
now becoming aware;
the influences of poverty from being the richest man alive captures the mass,
bent on ignorance, that shows no gain;
garbage bins becomes there prey,
cleaning windows of car is income, suffice the day,
supervised by poverty! and out scoring all the other delligates,
poverty also own the trade that teaches the longivity of hardship,
rested enough on a king size sidewalk spread with carboard denim
providing comfort paid for by poverty as a treat to the best laborer,
but poverty takes no break, seemingly a workaholic.......
proclaim'i'm a hustler'.and
Has the fleet of his employee's feet get wearsome, poverty dear not to retreat! but relent the surviving scares that ridge their free created flesh
at a cost!
classified bumbs they become victims to the slums, coke-cocaine, cannabis and rum!
enslaving the mindstead of the innocent and young, the future remains unchanged!
but who do they liberate, when life bounds them at the expense of living another day!
who showers their skin from the residue of misfortune and bad luck
moreso, who is to be blame,
when education 'the key' only opens the door seemingly once every eternity! to those of whom that are not on the paid roll of poverty!
and when does poverty give us cars, land and a good home; Homes that
over looking the scenery of beauty, with rose petals scattered liked shurbs
bring out the feel of pardise fresh to the smell of a splash of l.o.v.e! and a white picket fence to the ending of living
happily forever and ever like the tale of a fairy! to know
how much do we have to endure to asure we achieve
and when does poverty get poor?
 
terrence beckford

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  44.     

Ode to Poverty

poetry in progress

i have seen poverty
climb stairs to make
that morning paper
available at the top floor

i have seen poverty
climb stairs to sell that
wrapped tied farm chicken
quiet and bowed,
in a one star hotel
a sinewy woman waiting
for the chance of her dawn


i have seen poverty light
oil lamp in the dead of night
with the hope to leap from rags
to cosier enclave through
pen and ink, alphabets,
arab numerals, mind spinning algebras,
logarithms, and medical lexicons

i have seen poverty
take men across turbulent seas
oceans, to strange lands
to make money for home
thousands of miles away

i have seen poverty sweats
from dawn till dusk
under the tropical sun
smoothening highways,
coating multi-storey buildings


i have seen poverty
sank trespassers of seas
who have sold every penny
with the hope to reach the
land of their dreams and opportunities


i have seen poverty
hops onto beds with strange men
with the hope to take
some dollars from them
to feed starving
children at the slums

i have seen poverty carry
a senile Chinese woman on
shoulders up a famous hill resort
she to admire her honeymoon spot
he to put meals on the table
for mom and dad, brothers and sisters

i have seen poverty gulp
men and women in the seas,
throw them helter skelter
in a murderous web of human
trafficking and slavery

i have seen poverty turn
graceful beautiful maidens
into thin, nerve wracking
frames, wrinkles and flesh
driven to the edge of existence
 
john tiong chunghoo

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Poems On / About POVERTY