When I say, “I’m desperate,”
They smile and say, “I know,”
When I ask for a little succour
They smile and then say, “No!”
They’re smiling at my poverty
They’re smiling at my pain,
I tell them that I’m starving
So they smile, and smile again.
They smile to see me suffer
And when I ask for help,
They say they’d like to help me, but
“You’ve got to help yourself!”
I live in utter destitution
Well below the poverty line,
I try to make them care a bit
But they smile and say, “That’s fine.”
They smile to see me bleeding
Half-dead on Melbourne’s streets,
They smile and say they cannot
Help me back onto my feet.
© Copyright 2011
© Copyright 2016 Philip Roberts. All rights reserved.
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