The Strain Of Poverty

In the streets where poverty reigns,

Despair and sorrow leave their stains,

The hunger pangs that fill each day,

Are a heavy price the poor must pay.

Their eyes are dim, their faces worn,

From the burdens that they must adorn,

With empty stomachs, tattered clothes,

Their spirit fades, and their hopelessness grows.

The harsh reality they face,

No respite from the daily chase,

For food and shelter, warmth and light,

In a world that's so unjust and tight.

Yet in their struggle, there's a strength,

A will to live, a hope at length,

A glimmer of light that shines so brightly,

In the darkest hours of the night.

We must reach out with hearts so kind,

And help the poor to ease their mind,

To give them comfort, love, and care,

And show them that we're always there.

Poverty should never be,

A way of life, a destiny,

And with compassion in our hearts,

We can make a difference and do our part.