In the alleys where the shadows dwell,
Where dreams are sold and hopes dispelled,
Whispers of hunger echo through the night,
Poverty’s grip, a relentless plight.

Children with eyes that tell a tale,
Of days spent in a ceaseless wail,
Their laughter lost to the winds of despair,
A future uncertain, beyond repair.

The weary hands that toil and bleed,
Struggling to meet their daily need,
In the heart of cities, in the soul of lands,
Poverty’s touch, like shifting sands.

Yet in the darkness, a flicker of light,
A spirit unbroken, ready to fight,
For every shadow, a dawn must rise,
Bringing hope to those with weary eyes.