domingo, 4 de maio de 2025

The food of Poverty

 Poverty was overfed
 wealth was hunger enhanced
A child whose legs were thin
couldn't feel autumn's dance

couldn't hear the scorn of it's call
Busy picking corn too tall for him
wealth looked like famine and unease 
poverty was a decadent feast

Boy wasn't told he needed to read
Just given a sack and some shears
to harvest the yard crops no cares
before the day of eviction

Couldn't hear the malevolent wind
Frost and blizzard it's prediction
Stripping husks down no afflictions
peeling through the days

His precious blood kept the body red but tendons slack
the freeze worked into the walls claiming the shack
right through his frame and without a flame
Cold robbed him next to the unlit coal 

His attempt at existence
his God given soul

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