Poverty hurts like hell. I walk by people every day who beg for money, and hate myself that I can’t do much of anything for them. But I least I can give witness, and say this: In this country of infinite wealth, don’t the poor matter at all? Anyone one of us can be poor – may be poor now – by no fault or action of our own. One health issue, one accident – and our meager savings would disappear faster than a drop of water on a hot griddle.
None of us (except maybe the über-rich) can be so clueless to believe that it would never, could never, happen to us. There but for the grace of God go any of us. So even if you or I can’t give the poor what they need, we can at least let them (and everyone else) know that we know they matter.
Staked out my corner on a busy street
Asking folks to please give to the poor
But I’m just someone they don’t want to meet
I guess we just don’t matter anymore.
It’s not my fault that you don’t have a job
What is there that I have to answer for?
It’s no excuse for you to steal and rob
I’m sorry you don’t matter anymore.
The soup kitchen is full of hungry kids
They’re tired of sleeping on a dirty floor
Their moms and dads have really hit the skids
Looks like they just don’t matter anymore.
We’re sick and tired of “won’t you help us please?”
Your dirty filthy clothing we abhor
Now go to church and get down on your knees
We’re happy you don’t matter anymore.
There are some things that / We don’t conquer alone
Even warm and well-fed / We’re still empty inside
If the poor are blessed / It’s because they know
Everyone is hungry sometime
You see the poor and hungry every day
Mothers, sisters, brothers, many more
No one deserves to suffer in this way
Please don’t think we don’t matter anymore.