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Poor little rich girl, never sees daddy, he's always at work. Poor little rich girl so much attention and its all on her. So many expectations, parents lacking in patience.
Everyone in life is born with a spoon. Some are shiny and precious, Others rusty with doom. Some are made of silver, Which more than often the "best".
The nobles walk around the king's court, like vultures gathering around the diseased carcass of some long dead animal.
A soldier, Scared, worried, but keeps on going for us, He wants to see his family But will he.
Behind this glass I watch, I see you count out your coins Emptying one days worth of your coffers, To my life times they'll be joined. You weigh it out into smaller piles.
Mummy says, it's ok that your friends laugh at you; Mummy says, it's fine that what your friends have we can't afford; Mummy says, other people won't understand that we have to work our asses off...
A chaotic street with hustling crowd, Seemed empty when I saw him.. A boy of three covered in a shroud, With pale skin and eyes so dim.. Tired and hungry he was at last, As he sat on the gravel road..
A little after thought from my "Venezuela" post ;-). Everybody's on the hustle for more. From the rich men to the extremely poor. While I'm haggling over a measly score.
Me and you are exactly the same... But you are treated as if you're a Dame. You get riches and you get gold. It's what I've seen and what I've been told. So we're the same this shouldn't be...
The sky is gone. Replaced by an endless vertical grey, black and white. There is no horizon. Just buildings where is used to be. The air is almost nonexistent but it is so thick you see it.
Walking down the golden lane. Poverty restricts them like a chain. A line is forming in the street. Just more people after heat. A scurry of feet through the door. People always after more.
Life when the wealthy get wealthier, and the poorer get poorer is unfortunate Seem disproportionate. Share and care. No one would dare. Millionaire. Rags to riches but must be silken gold.
Things in life are really tough. You start to feel you've had enough. You feel yourself start to cry. Never stopping to ask why. Money worries. Bills to pay. You want it all to go away.
No one told me life would be easy They never told me life was hard Silver spoons I never knew Privilege belonging the chosen few.
I try to live each day In a happy good way Working for poor pay So my boss can play The rich man just laughs When a poor man asks How long can it last The system of the class.
Pale yellow light of the evening struck the flooded pavement, turning the already filthy rain water to a murkier brown by the minute.
I am not the king, duke or lord. I am one of the silent people. I have no power land or wealth, only my beliefs, as rickety and homemade as the shanty town I live in. I am one of the silent people.
When the steerage passengers came aboard the Titanic, they only wanted to cross the Atlantic. These people had sold everything but their soul, to reach America, the ultimate goal.
Refugee from a war-torn land, Wonders where she'll sleep tonight, Orphaned, homeless, destitute, Clings to hope yet sees no light.
A little girl sits in the warm sand. The wind pulls at her hair, widening her big, bright smile as she beams at the sun and the sand and the waves.
I think my problems are big,you probably do to.I always thought I was the worst off but just imagine this: You have nowere to go,even your family has rejected you.by day you sell bits and bobs on the...
Now not wanting to jump on the soap box, I want to give my opinion as to whether I think education is a right or a privilege.
Cold. No not cold; freezing. My fingers withdrew from the window, as I inspected the clear marks on the window. But before I even got a chance to peer out further outside, the marks began to...