The Rich And The Poor Poem by Ramotlhaba Chrisjan

I am the poor,
I am a shame to everyone
I am a docile child for I have nothing
I've been growling from within, even since I lost both of them
I can't find peace in my soul for I'm a joke for everyone, I'm so dirty

Under the sky, there are the riches and there's me
They drive their Benz, while I ride on my knees
They sleep in a mansion, while I sleep under the bridge
They go shopping everyday, while I go into the bins
They spend their lives with their families, while I spend mine with in misery
They have medical aid, while I prowl to death

Where are the riches?
To feed the poor
To share the crumb to the homeless
Where is the preacher?
To save the souls
To tell the world that love can defeat ignorance

Where is the government?
To save lives
To feel sorry for the lost
Where are the teachers?
To save education
To save the future of tomorrow