When I think poverty, here's what I see,
Beaten down faces and thousands of frowns
Shutdown dreams in the land of the free
An economic scale that always points down
“Why don’t they get a job instead of free-loading”
“Will work for food,” their attempts are overlooked,
“Don’t look, ignore them, give them nothing,” scolding.
No change occurs and their meals stay uncooked
Kind of like your childhood toys,
Homeless people are forgotten,
aging with the years, rags for clothes, not making any noise,
Everything is the same and so words remain unspoken
They fight for everyday survival to end in piles of trash,
being blown away by the wind as if never existing in a silent clash.