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The Poor
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The Poor

I have my hope alive
These rainy days for the sky
To behave well;
To pour its blessing
Upon the poor who in
Tiny hamlets dwell;

I hold the belief
That who does good
Never have to see bad days;
His family flourishes
And go on rising to the sky
Who for His greatness prays;

And our poor have never
Lose faith on Him,
Wish no harm to none;
Through penury and hunger
They smile and loss of
Wealth they do not mourn;

How long can He witness
The dance of sorrow
Upon their dejected fates;
He has a heart too
And to the realm of wealth
He would open the gates;

My poor do serve Him
With free mind and heart
And happiness they get manifold;
Goodness and simplicity
Are earned through acts
And can’t be bought or sold.

User Rating: 5,0 / 5 ( 1 votes ) 2

Comments (2)

i see your good heart for loving others i sense compassion in your heart your heart is never poor with love and concern for others. Thank you @TIKU for reading my poem.
You draw attention to the plight of the poor here so very well. We must all do what we can to alleviate their suffering. Even the writing of a poem like this will bring a blessing upon you, I am sure. It shows your concern and care for the less fortunate. Very well done!