What a feeling it is to say, “This is my own house”
For one who lived years in a rented residence
What a feeling it is to say, “I’m full to my neck”
For one who starved for weeks, being out of work
What a feeling it is to say, “This rag is so warm”
For a half-nude hobo who lives under sky-dome
Small pleasures, yet great gratifications they are,
For those grieving souls, in sheer indigence
The poor are poor; but poorer are the ravenous rich
Who can never reach these richer indulgences
A very well written. I liked the starting line a lot. 'What a feeling' thats right. What a feeling...nice one.
'What a feeling it is to say, “This is my own house”' Rachel Ann Butler
Well done! This poem is brief, but says a lot, and the last 2 lines express a real truth. It reminds me of the people I saw living on the pavements in Delhi - they had not lost their dignity, however poor they might be.
What a feeling it is to say thank you for remembering our poor and writing of their plight - wonderfully done - compassion in every line
only those who experience the total absence of something in their lives alone understand and enjoy what it's to attain the much needed!
Poor and meek shall inherit the world...............Good Write..........
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
The good samaritan you don't hear of anymore he's been replaced by banknotes but everyone is poor........................well said John