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A poem about poverty in a land of great wealth.


Submitted:Jan 19, 2011    Reads: 37    Comments: 0    Likes: 0   


In Melbourne Town in spring time
Thousands of folk are living rough,
They do not dream of wealth or fame
They dream of just having enough:

Enough of the basic necessities
To allow them to get by,
To pay their rent and school bills
Enough so their kids won't die.

But governments of all persuasions
Stand back and do nothing,
To ease the pain of poverty
To take away starvation's sting.

Decent folk now on the streets
Unable to keep up with soaring rents,
Abandoned by the apathetic
In state and federal government.

They're living rough from day to day
Struggling just to barely survive,
Starving themselves if necessary
To keep their children alive.

Street folk have to care for themselves
For if they dare to ask for handouts,
The government says it hasn't got enough
As it fritters our tax dollars about.

So street folk live and die alone
With no-one offering genuine help,
They live or die on their own mettle
They have to look out for themselves.

For
Canberra offers no help
And rich folk will not do their bit,
Noblesse oblige is dying out
For the rich do not care for it.

"Why help the poor wretches
If they've failed at life?
It is not our fault
If they cannot survive."

With lies like that the rich folk
Refuse to help those living rough,
And
Canberra keeps making excuses
To never do enough.

THE END
© Copyright 2011
Philip Roberts





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