As I'm walking down the street
I get depressed from all the sights that i see
People with no shoes on their feet
I just can't believe that these things can be
I look at the clothes they wear
I look at the dirt on their skin
I can't believe no one else cares
As they walk past the makeshift home of a wooden bin
Tell me to my face
How is our nation so great
If the people are given such a cruel fate
Our nation is a disgrace!
Thanks you Celina for helping me name this piece.
Michael Carlson
http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/poverty-23/
