How the other half live

The face of the earth is turning,
Young small children, learning.
Adults have jobs in the city,
All polite, clever and witty.

But there are some that suffer,
The lives they lead are so much tougher.
Scavenging food from rich kid's bins,
Mouldy bread, half empty tins.

Stop and think of those living like that,
Living in boxes among rubbish and tat.
People don't care, they turn a blind eye,
While we're in the city, they starve, they die.