Literature
Poverty
Wash the crimson away--
The red that paints this city.
Take my slumber away--
The horrors in every dream.
I'm falling on my knees,
Begging you--
Please,
Please,
Please,
Spare one last night for me.
This Afghan poverty
Makes me plead--
Please,
Please,
Please,
Death stop shadowing me.
Chase these ravens away--
Hunger that hunts so many.
See children waste away--
This plague we call poverty.