Page 178 - PWS Words 2021 (2)

Poverty Nights It’s Us, Not Climate Change

Poverty nights, poverty nights, I walked up to the garden today,
Where there is anger, where there is fright. And what was looking at me?
Don’t you feel depressed at how bitter the water tastes like? White and yellow daisies,
Don’t you feel how heart-brokenly people might live lives? For the whole world to see.
O, you rich lads, you won’t understand the pain on those comfy
cushions of yours, I looked up to the sky and spoke,
How arduous is it to sleep in these gruelling poverty nights? “it’s winter here you go’’
It should have been freezing and cold and hailing,
Does it tear you apart to see the homeless so unwanted? With the ground covered in snow,
Do you feel blessed for having what you have already granted? But...
The torn clothes and the thorned floors,
I feel like smashing my head on a door, The climate is changing,
The loss of hope and the lack of a fight, We are all getting confused,
Can lead to death in these dreadful poverty nights. The animals, the plants, us, the humans,
We are all curious and wonder...
Shubh Agarwal
MYP -3 What can the reason be?
Who is playing tricks on us?
An Orphan I really don’t know,
But prepare yourself for it,
Clothes tattered and torn, Because it is not going change any time soon,
Sometimes can’t even be worn, Unless we change it,
Hair always unruly, We have time to change it.
Hands always dirty,
I cry for help, But no one listens. Let’s change before it’s too late,
The fires we see burning in the Amazon forest, burn for a reason,
No proper place to sleep, The glaciers that are melting, melt for a reason,
Shelter homes are out of reach, And the reason is not climate change but US,
Food! Food! My tummy shouts, We are the reason behind this,
Eyes wide open, Let’s not focus on history but be the future for this planet.
Looking for food bins all around.
The suffering hurts my soul and my body both, Krishna Rauniyar
MYP -3
WORDS 2020 -21 Barefoot on the streets all day long, WORDS 2020 -21

But no one cares, Orphaned at birth,
My pockets are empty,
And my bond with poverty,
Began at birth and will last till I die….to be REBORN.

Kabir Arora,MYP- 3

178 179