• Saturday, September 12th, 2009


They called me poor.

I was not poor. I lacked food and clothing

I did not have money; I was not poor

My heart was rich, rich, the same as the heart of the rich

Poor, are beautiful people

Same as the rich, with a rich heart.


They called me poor

with their big sorrow

those who were poor in their hearts

those who always did and still do

stand like a fence between the rich and the poor

stand like a fence between people

who lack clothing and money

and people who have everything

and who have a rich heart.


They call us poor

with their big sorrow

Always, for the first time

they throw us their promises

The second time they throw us

bones with some meat

and for the last time,

through the long century,

again and again, they threw us “clean” bones and dirty hate

a hate which always falls between

what they call, us, the poor,

and the rich, with a rich heart


They called me poor

I was not poor; my heart was rich

rich, the same as those who have

everything, and a rich heart,

POOR, if rich, with a rich

heart, didn’t exist, there

would be no “poor,” and

there wouldn’t be those

who feed us with “clean”

bones and dirty hate

and no one would be able to say

that an animals’ world exists!


They call us poor, and the rich, rich

They feed us with sorrow and hate

POOR, we should never call ourselves, poor

but we should change our life’s

psychology and philosophy,

as quickly as possible

We must stop working, for THOSE,

and supporting and holding

the life’s fence,

between, what they call us,

the poor and the rich.


I wonder, “Who are THEY?”

Throughout the long century

THEY haven’t YET found and established

their first and last name

THEY don’t know any better

because they never worked

and they still don’t work.

They were never poor

and they were never rich,

but they eat, and live,

with an empty, hungry, heart.


World, the young, the poor

and the rich, with a rich heart

you can do it together

You can “turn” this world around

and feed those

who call us, poor, and the rich, rich

with so much less

Young world, God will not punish you

and I’m sure work will not

let them starve, but if it does,

the world will not be held responsible

Poor and rich, with a rich heart

this is my rich life’s philosophy

with one beating heart


They called me poor

those who never stopped flying around

the world, and leaving their eggs

in other birds’ nests, like

the cuckoo birds, and then fly

away, AMERICA, fly away

searching for a new home, a new nest.


Wisdom, here is the world’s answer. At our present time, if the devil were to die, some of us would be happy and some of us would cry.


World Wisdom, the termites are winning.


Category: Poetry
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