Poverty
A Poem by my daughter Maryam
Why do we complain about the unfairness of life?
We have been stroked by its handle, not felt its sharp knife.
Our hearts moan because we do not have the latest iPhone.
But have we stopped to see the cries of those without a home?
They come begging at our door, desperate for help.
But all we do is dismiss them with a rude yelp.
"Be not harsh to the orphan and the needy," says our Lord.
But some of us do not heed this and whip them with a steel rod.
Though the whole world we cannot feed.
We should not refrain from doing a good deed.
And prevent drowning in a pool of greed.
