This Is My Story

One Dollar currency I am, but sad
we are very many in the North
but very few in the South!

I hear there are many people in the South
huge numbers that have never seen me
there I want to go for action of charity
but I am confined in prisons of the North
prison- pockets of those who have
North where is your compassion?

Those who sleep hungry, thirsty
and eat only after a petition prayer
those who are sick without drugs
the orphans that walk naked, bare feet
little beings that have no fees
are my friends that need compassion
North, where is your compassion?

The old man, old woman in the South
that sleeps with hens, goats in one room
and have never seen proper hygiene
that are colonies of myriads of microbes
North, where is your compassion?


These need my services-not hamburger -biters
many of us are ready, let us go, let it be now
Less than me a day is a little life a day
A little life each day is huge death each day
North, where is your compassion?
Copyright © | Year Posted 2017

Poem

Post Comments

Poetrysoup is an environment of encouragement and growth so only provide specific positive comments that indicate what you appreciate about the poem. Negative comments will result your account being banned.

Please Login to post a comment

Be the first to comment on this poem. Encourage this poet.

Get a Premium Membership
Turn off ads, get more exposure for your poetry, and get more features with a Premium Membership.
Book: Diverse Voices: The Poetry of Human Rights and the Pursuit of Peace