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
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
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
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
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