I never cease to be in awe

Of those the world describes as poor,

Yet do not stay at home and moan,

But set out to improve alone

 

Or - fortunate to find a kindred soul

Or two - they also find a role

In the life they seek for future joy

By graft and talent they employ.

 

Always looking up, not down,

They wear upon their heads a crown

Not gold or jewelled as we might see

Adorning heads of royalty.

 

Invisible, it lifts their faces up,

That they might chance to sip and sup

At the table of hard-earned success

That can be found despite duress.

 

Never heed the fact that you're born poor,

Decide to open life's closed door.

Knock loud and long with determination

For your well-earned waiting destination.

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