PoemsBrowse PoemsSlamsFresh DropEchoes
LearnWriting TipsPoetry TermsPoets & ArtistsBooksFor Teachers
ExplorePoetry GenomePoem MapEchoesTake ActionGroups
AboutWrite a PoemDonateSign UpLog In

Help Them


They sit there all alone/ the poor, the sick, the homeless/why does no one hear them cry/it seems that life is hopeless.Why can't we take a single day/to reach out and show grace/to help out a fellow man/to look them in the face.What a difference it would make/if everyone would lend a hand/to give a little to the poor/who inhabit this rich land.

©All Rights Reserved

Something wrong with this poem?

Share

Replies are closed for this poem.

Your Poem's Voice

See what makes your poem unique — its voice, energy, themes, and the literary traditions it draws from.

Comments (0)

No comments yet. Be the first to share your thoughts.

Log in to leave a comment.