Saturday, October 18, 2014

Poverty



Poverty

Floor upon floor of concrete and walls
Elevator shafts no different than barnyard stalls 
Yellowing cracks form in the old spent ceiling
Paint on the drywall eagerly peeling
Carpet balding of all its hairs
Rats accompany the homeless in the deserted stairs
Rooms inside are heard filled with unlimited chatter
Their circumstances to a very few does it really matter
Hungry children ask for a little more
Drug dealers eager to please await by the fragile door
Father to spent doing nothing each and every day
Mother exhausted searching for the extras in the alley way
Poverty is no fun when all around you it seems so grand
One is left to wonder where is the lending hand
Politicians always promise a better future
The hurt unsolvable when dressed with a insincere suture
The poor are not the refuse at the end of the road
Theirs is the commitment that begins with a heavy load
Remember that one day the tide may change
Our fortunes are tied to an artificial futures exchange.

Thank you,
Joseph Pede

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