Blind Eye

We’ve got politicians

who are mad as hatters

The struggling are often trampled

while the fat cats get fatter,

and many turn a blind eye

like it doesn’t matter

By: J.N.R Dutton

Sharecropper’s Son

He was born in a log cabin

in nineteen hundred & ten

He lived there as an infant & then

He grew up on a sharecropper’s farm,

a sharecropper’s wage never stretched very far,

He was a child with a heart of iron & grit

never complained, not a single bit

He had a great work ethic,

took any job he could get, 

worked even when he was sick,

It also didn’t hurt that he was smart as a whip

At the end of the day, all his slaving away,

lifted his family out of poverty’s grip

By: J.N.R Dutton

 

 

 

 

 

New Poem

He would work if he could, he’s really tried,

his body is broken and that daily grieves his mind

Ignorant people scream and shout,

shaming him for taking a hand out,

but what they call a hand out

He takes as a hand up,

A much needed lifeline

since things have been rough

something he can use

not just to survive

but to invest in his future, and

to build a better life

One day they may find out

What it’s like to need help too…

Before casting stones at the struggling

Walk a mile in their shoes,

Please, dear ones, remember…

it could easily be you

By: J.N.R Dutton

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

California Nightmare (Poem)

Let me tell you about the flip-side

of the California dream

It’s not all glitz & glamour

like is portrayed on T.V.

Housing is expensive there,

and there is rampant poverty

There are homeless, addicts, and panhandlers

walking the streets

I was only there for a little while

but I can’t forget what I’ve seen

More attention needs to be drawn

To this tragedy, this state of emergency

By:J.N.R Dutton