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The poor beggars Lining the streets
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Poverty and I were well acquainted.
I spent my childhood wearing her worn cloak.
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If I could wave a wand, and ‘cure’ just one thing
Poverty would be my choice, all others it would bring
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It was on the news again today on the TV screen I saw tears on their faces, why are people so mean
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This poem depicts the pain and sorrow of a young boy, and how he comes to know the true meaning of the word "please."
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You can look down upon me
With your mass prosperity
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“Eat your vegetables”
my mother cried,
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We've purposefully failed to notice
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my slum is urban decay, poverty, unemployment ,drugs ,alchahol ,crime ,murder ,unsanitary, disease , danger.
my slum is my home.
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this poem is about innocent kids who feel they should have the right to speak and share their thoughts, feelings and speech with others
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This poem is about innocent kids who dont a family to love them. It makes me cry to read this poem.
I love writing poetry because it makes
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The missing L and V flicker with back yard
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It's a council estate state of mind - You tenant the house and then you die.
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Just for the record, has nothing to do with cancerr, just a metaphor
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Satiated, desiring but not having enough food to offer some, is also poverty,
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Lot of hunger and having no food is poverty,
by Palas Kumar Ray
18 lines, 2 comments,
on Jun 28 6:44 AM. In poverty, Life, Sad, Sadness, Anger, Thoughts, Emo, Love, Humanity, Background
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Go ahead and take your shot
I’ll stand tough without a thought
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Where were you when she needed you? Couldn’t you hear her cry? Standing in the shadows, asking only simply “why?”
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We were learning about poverty in Religious Education, and i thought about it, and decided that i would write this.
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Pandora’s box was opened, and out came a Wight
A misery that ruined it all, left us only to adight
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You and I would reap imprisonment.
by BonnieQ
33 lines, 13 comments,
on Apr 17 8:32 PM. In Contest, Poverty, Government, Society, Thoughts, Life, Other, Pain, Sad
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It seems that we’re all chasing
A dragon of some kind,
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An savage look at 2 "happy" seasons: too darkly honest for some, perhaps?
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What Xmas & Easter were like for me, growing up, and what they are about now.
"Not for those of a nervous disposition".
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Sleep little baby, sleep
Tomorrow you'll awake to the world
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elusive, grotesque, unchristened identities
lost among the whites and blacks
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I am floating down the river called life...
Alone... Barely keeping my head above water...
Almost drowning...
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To see all of the red tape and the hoops people make me jump though, no longer exist, I don't know how many times I have tripped over those
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we pull up to the gas station at west 25th street and passyunk. south philadelphia. not the worst-not the best. "can i pump your gas for a dollar?" a little black boy needs extra change to live-just a dollar. just one do
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Little girl lost, we walk right past Grown up now in this world of hate
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One dark night, I decided to walk going to Luneta Park,
I faced my fears because of depression at home,
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so now that you’ve met me, tell me; are you happy?
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I sit at my windowsill
Watching the black clouds cry onto the Earth
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It's our eyes
That hold the scars.
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Clothed in just a piece of cotton
Sitting by the side walk
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Money not funny when pockets are empty
governing each day, watching others with plenty,
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Yeh kis tarah andhi hui hai
Zindagi ki roshni
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The rich keep
getting richer
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Autumn leaves
carry themselves
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Ib tge cirber
her eyes rain.
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A brown paper bag,
Inside he carries a brown penny,
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