Poverty

I hate this grinding poverty
To toil, to pinch and to borrow
And be forever haunted by
The specter of tomorrow
It breaks the strong heart
Of a man
It crushes out his spirit
Do what he will
Do what he can
However high his merit

I hate the praise the want has got
From preacher and from poet
The can't of those who know it not
To blind the men who know it
The greatest cure since man had birth
An everlasting terror
The cause of half
The crime on earth!

-Nirmohi