The quivering morning of the day,
Sways us in sleep on hay..
We are profound in the warm quilts,
Have we ever thought of a tilt?
Tilt and watch those small kids,
Picking plastic bags in the midst..
Have we ever thought of them,
Who are always in whem?
The cold Breeze blows,
The blood doesn’t flow,
The poor die,
Without an aye!
Trust me not if you ain’t aware,
But do help them as a DARE!