Just one more bottle of beer.
Bartender please lend me your ear.
Hit me once more, cause I'm all out of tears.
Just one more bottle of beer.
Just one more before you throw me out of here.
There's one more song on the jukebox I want to hear.
Just one more bottle of beer.
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WHEN HE WAS YOUNG
There were no streets to sleep in
when he was young.
Just wide-open spaces and green,
green grass.
The
by Te Ora
Poverty my Crime
Tiny glittering sequins
Delicately woven beads
Tiny little fingers
Sewing 'til it bleeds
Fine woven silks
For
Shattered Dreams...
She sat sadly
on the cracked sidewalk.
Her vulnerabilities exposed
like open wounds.
She thought about
her
~Broken and poor~
I have no money,
I have no food.
I have nobody,
My health is never good.
I have no home,
I sleep where I lay.
I
I stand and turn off the television
Turn my back on the cries of pain
On the mothers cradling dying children
And make
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Poetry: Poverty
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