Poverty is a wound that doesn't bleed

In the streets where the poor do dwell, A stark reality is hard to quell. A life of want, a life of need, Poverty is a wound that doesn't bleed.

The skies above don't seem to care, As the hungry masses just stare, At the abundance that they see, Knowing that it's not meant to be.

The children suffer the most, Living a life where they've lost, The chance for a future bright, Their dreams and hopes now out of sight.

The weight of poverty is heavy, And its impact on life, very deadly, For those who cannot afford to live, The pain and struggle is hard to give.

We must not turn our heads away, From those who struggle every day, For poverty is a reality we must face, And together we can make it disappear without a trace.