Lord, there are souls suffering needlessly every night,
Outside, in shop doorways of millionaires.
Even this nation's princess ignored their plight,
Visited instead distant lands, to glorify herself.
Helping no one; listened only to unanswered cares.

While this nation's warring dead are honoured
At many a tearful cenotaph.
Yet living souls under cardboard they abandon,
Without compassion, without a final epitaph.

Thousands of the obscenely rich choke the pleas
Of the destitute, with self-preserving excuses,
While living in spacious dwellings, shamefully
Creating unsheltered lives, within legal abuses.

These enemies of Your imminent Kingdom
Publicly declare their innocence still,
Yet enlist the poor to sustain their riches.
All share in this everlasting guilt, with their
Political misleaders and their 'harlot' bitches.