Warm Feet

Warm Feet

If you do what you like, you’ll never work a day in your life.

There’s always a way to do it your way and get paid, so I’ve been told.

I wish I could say that’s always true, but if it were why would there be people sleeping on the streets with their lips and toes turning blue?

I don’t know what disgusts me more, those who don’t know or those who turn a blind eye.

When you see them how do your tear ducts stay dry?

They’re people too. Their hearts beat the same. Addicts or brokers you could end up that way.

The recession has hit them hard, not all are ex-criminals who have done something wrong.

You and I are lucky we just don’t see, America is brave but it isn’t poverty free.

There’s no way it can be, but if my death would change it I’d gladly go.

No more hunger, no more cold, no more fear, and no more death.

We would all stand a chance and there’d be no limits to our best.

No one would have to wonder WHEN they’d get to eat or even IF they got to eat.

Everyone could have a warm face and warm feet.







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