Poverty

POVERTY Poverty, Merciless ruler of billions, Your empire of want, across the globe You have stretched AS In your unpitying passage, No village No town No city No nation No continent is left Unoccupied By your Ruthless forces: Of suffering Of Misery Of agony Of despair, and Of death. The innumerable subjects of yours Subjugated are By The powerful heartless few Who Their ruthless decrees: Of cruelty Of indifference Of reconsideration, and Of shameful exploitation have been For centuries unmercifully Applying, Grinding your subjects in Their shameful mills Of fathomless greed, Always, Taking for themselves the lions share, first, And then for more are they asking, While The deprived multitude of starving Women, men, and children On empty stomachs, they march The Horrid enemy of starvation to face On Famine’s unforgiving front of death, Wishing thus To die in the battle of survival with dignity, Than In agony to live another day without hope That their dream of satiety Will ever come alive! Oh, poverty, Don’t ask me how did I come The needy and your grimy nature so Well to know But If I were ever to be asked, Here is my reply: I know you, oh poverty so well, For Since my birth, a loyal subject of yours I have been and Still, a subject of yours, I REMAIN! © Demetrios Trifiatis 24 February 2013