The Forgotten

We are the forgotten ones,
Downtrodden and hated sons.
We beg for change so we might eat,
And scrounge for scraps around your feet.
Turn up your nose and rush right by,
As more and more around you die.
The cold is strong, no shelter here,
No way to flee from all our fears.
No comfort, home, or family,
And still you cannot look at me?