If poverty is a man
I would crush it to death
I hate to see stressed sweats
On faceless faces of man
Whose struggles has become food
And endless hustles with no good

Unhappiness is like a tasteless tea
For happy hearts, it is not a delight
Yet,sorrowful soul embrace it day and night
Eventhough,their dreams are empty
How can a mouth that hardly touch food be happy?
Or how can a soul dressed in rag be happy?

Poor people hardly remember tomorrow
But the survival of today
A soul that tasted happiness everyday
Will not wish for sorrow
For poor people, life is like a hell
But left with no option, in it they dwell

Their mind is full of echoes of silent screams
But noone respond to their cries
They call it pretences and lies
And life built on empty dreams
Make poor people happy where they reside
Save sorrowful soul save suicide

If I possess power to **** poverty
I would do so without delay
I wish to help many souls in my own little way
And save people whose lives are empty
For a helpless soul is a dangerous snake
That could put a nation at stake

How could you understand how they feel?
When you toy with their emotions
And neither give them comforts nor solutions
How could you believe their story is real?
When you call it pretences and lies
And turn deaf ears and blind eyes

How can a soul wear poverty garment?
In a democratic states of elites
And feel helpless with an unprotected rights
Yet,we claim good government
What a wicked world!
This has gone beyond a mere world