This week’s prompt from is ‘Money’. If you’d like to join in go to ThinSpiralNotebook
His bed is in the street,
Her tears are for her child.
For every person you meet.
It is far from being mild.
They hold out their hand to you.
Poverty their gift from birth.
You dismiss their suffering with a sneer.
Never willing or trying to learn.
You call them stupid and lazy,
Then rob them with your taxes.
You cut their funds for austerity.
You grind them with you axes.
You sit in your second home judging,
Those who worked without gain.
It makes me question greatly.
If you even have a brain.
Or a heart.
Or soul.
bardicblogger 