The Golden Lane

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
The food, nothing more than than soup
People rush in like a coup
Some people beg while others steal
Some people try to sell their skills
The rich don't really give a dam
These people don't have to sleep on trams
The abundance of food on the table
These peoples clothing's always label
A poor mans boy, to the rich a runt
Both rich and poor together hunt
One for fun and one for survival
Their dedication cannot be rivaled
A bridge, a wear house, a keep
Just another place to sleep
Rags to try and keep them warm
Useless against the coming storm
So when you see a person in need
Value life and offer deeds
Because in life nothings certain
And to my poem we close the curtain