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A Lovely Old Lady

Her smile it betrays her for her rotting teeth
That lovely old lady that I often meet
Out walking in the park or on the main street
Too careless of her looks to know of conceit.

The story of her life may never be told
Alone and forgotten she is growing old
For empty bottles that she sell for a few pence she searches every rubbish bin
A tiny financial reward for her seems such a big win.

For those on the poverty line their needs are small
What sort of a World do we live in at all?
The gap between the haves and the have nots has grown ever wide
The face of hidden poverty we no longer can hide.

From amongst the wealthy who pride themselves in their generosity
One need not travel far for to see poverty
In a World where many lust for wealth and fame
For the multiplying poor we must all take the blame.

A lovely old lady her I often meet
She doesn't have money for to fix up her teeth
She never ignores me as I pass her by
With her toothless smile she always says hi.

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