Trampled

The homeless urchin begs not for food
It is another day of a useless life, you say. 

As a poppy seed makes ceaseless demand
And then begins to ruin the land.

A wasteful treat for a wasted tramp,
A wasted life in no man's land.

But now he's dead with his hungry head
A weed so stricken had to fade.

You celebrate. You adore -
We're a richer race than before.