This is a strange world, where the poor are used as a source of money

It is just like the bees, where they exact pollen to produce pure honey

With the only difference that sometimes the humans tend to exploit

And the money they earn, they just spend it at a street pub or a boite

People may not remove pain but they pay good price for pictures of pain

Such is the trade that pain has become a commodity for sales and gain

If you actually want to help someone, just do it and forget, mention it never

For if you just sell pain and earn, but are anything but wise and clever

For the person who sells pain distributes it further so always sell cheers

Even if you want to trade, sell anything but pain, even if pack of beers

People are more interested in fiction than reality for such is life

Everything is sold here, not matter even if it is poverty or strife