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We can refine the care

Aid the souls ensnared in deficiency

By providing them with the facilities

That we take every day for free.

On the dusty hamlets ground

Tiny dots of moisture appear

But I’m not sure if it’s polluted

Or if it’s someone’s lonely tear?

Because every slow trickle

Is the end of an existence

But it doesn’t have to be this way

We can shorten optimisms distance.

By giving everyone clean water

Regardless of affluence or race

And offer hygiene, sanitation

So unity isn’t left in disgrace.

By remembering a word called love

When excess mislays its novelty

As it is mightier than any riches

It can stop the taps of poverty.

© Daniel North

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Last modified: July 29, 2006