Poverty

The faces fill my mind
And I see people of all different kinds.
All people full of sadness,
While others somewhere are full of gladness.
Every face I see is filled with sorrow,
And I can only hope that tomorrow
Some of them will be out of their misery.
I want to make them all happy.
Their expressions are filled with hunger.
I feel so bad that some will die younger,
Than I am right now.
I know I have to help them somehow.
They are bundled up in scraps
And I think that maybe, perhaps,
My mother will let me donate some clothes,
While somebody else fills up their bowls.
The faces fill my mind
And I see people of all different kinds.
All people full of sadness,
And I feel so sorry at how little I can do.