A Lovely Old Lady

Her smile it betrays her for her rotting teeth That lovely old lady that I often meet Out walking in the park or on the main street Too careless of her looks to know of conceit. The story of her life may never be told Alone and forgotten she is growing old For empty bottles that she sell for a few pence she searches every rubbish bin A tiny financial reward for her seems such a big win. For those on the poverty line their needs are small What sort of a World do we live in at all? The gap between the haves and the have nots has grown ever wide The face of hidden poverty we no longer can hide. From amongst the wealthy who pride themselves in their generosity One need not travel far for to see poverty In a World where many lust for wealth and fame For the multiplying poor we must all take the blame. A lovely old lady her I often meet She doesn't have money for to fix up her teeth She never ignores me as I pass her by With her toothless smile she always says hi.