Dear Readers,
I usually rant in prose but I've decided to give poetry a try. Let me clarify up front that this poem doesn't rhyme. But my intention was to make it emotional. Hence in the flow, I didn't bother with punctuation, for which I apologize right now. This being my first attempt at poetry, I beseech you all to give me feedback on it.
A poor child lives his life
dreaming of the city lights
all the while in his heart
his dreams of being the guy
who drives by the slums
with those pitying eyes.
Oh the misery of the slum
the fight for survival
food isn't easy to come by
a diet is maintained not by choice
the growl of his stomach
now a familiar sound.
He spends his days daydreaming
education he hasn't known
the meager wages for his work
the heavy, manual kind
proud he would be of his slim body
if only he knew that it mattered.
The bin nearby he scavenges
his treats, the waste scorned on
by those with plenty
his heart fills with scorn
for these wasteful fools
Abusing the plenty that they have
Back his mind is drawn to food
the lack of it in his case
he wants to satiate the monster
that resides in his belly
never does it seem to have enough
never it ever has
He has known the existence of satisfaction
on the countenance of the rich
possess they do
all that he desires
a roof over his head
a square meal a day
Education he knows nothing of
its simply a rich people's thing
here in the slum that counts for naught
the only knowledge that matters
is how you will fill your stomach
and not get killed or jailed in doing so.
The most he can hope to achieve
is to be a sidekick to the local ruffian
he seems to be the best fed around
his stomach growls again
its an apt reminder and testament
that birth played a cruel joke on him.
His mother died giving birth
to the fourth mouth to feed
in his little hut
the alcoholic that his father is
knows not even the names
of the kids he fathered
In his gut he knows even now
his life isn't destined for greatness
a stomach filled
a house to live in
that's his dream
An Ode To Poverty
Hope you liked it! More importantly I hope it illicited a little emotion. Hope to hear from you guys.
I usually rant in prose but I've decided to give poetry a try. Let me clarify up front that this poem doesn't rhyme. But my intention was to make it emotional. Hence in the flow, I didn't bother with punctuation, for which I apologize right now. This being my first attempt at poetry, I beseech you all to give me feedback on it.
A poor child lives his life
dreaming of the city lights
all the while in his heart
his dreams of being the guy
who drives by the slums
with those pitying eyes.
Oh the misery of the slum
the fight for survival
food isn't easy to come by
a diet is maintained not by choice
the growl of his stomach
now a familiar sound.
He spends his days daydreaming
education he hasn't known
the meager wages for his work
the heavy, manual kind
proud he would be of his slim body
if only he knew that it mattered.
The bin nearby he scavenges
his treats, the waste scorned on
by those with plenty
his heart fills with scorn
for these wasteful fools
Abusing the plenty that they have
Back his mind is drawn to food
the lack of it in his case
he wants to satiate the monster
that resides in his belly
never does it seem to have enough
never it ever has
He has known the existence of satisfaction
on the countenance of the rich
possess they do
all that he desires
a roof over his head
a square meal a day
Education he knows nothing of
its simply a rich people's thing
here in the slum that counts for naught
the only knowledge that matters
is how you will fill your stomach
and not get killed or jailed in doing so.
The most he can hope to achieve
is to be a sidekick to the local ruffian
he seems to be the best fed around
his stomach growls again
its an apt reminder and testament
that birth played a cruel joke on him.
His mother died giving birth
to the fourth mouth to feed
in his little hut
the alcoholic that his father is
knows not even the names
of the kids he fathered
In his gut he knows even now
his life isn't destined for greatness
a stomach filled
a house to live in
that's his dream
An Ode To Poverty
Hope you liked it! More importantly I hope it illicited a little emotion. Hope to hear from you guys.
Yours Truly,
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