By Nikoli Weir

God bless the poor,

Those tired and those sore

Whose hands are tough and hardened

For their crime they won’t be pardoned;

The crime of being born on the bad side of town

The crime of being born so far from the crown.

God bless those in run down hovels

Whose sentence is to beg and endlessly grovel

To grovel in the mud, the grime and the dirt

To grovel so sadly with hearts full of hurt.

God bless the kids who work day and night

In run down sweatshops with barely any light,

Who grovel and toil for just a quarter a day,

Who in streets and in alleyways at night rest and lay,

Who shiver and cry till they fall asleep

And the product of their toil they never do reap.

God bless the women who live on the streets

Selling their bodies at the rich man’s feet.

Yes God bless them all, they deserve so much more

Than their lives filled with sweat, blood and with gore