I did meet him from infancy,
Together dined in dining, wined in the winery.
He who made me feed on crumps
And reserved left-overs meant for refuse dumps.
~Poverty is no friend.
He who watched me grow in tears,
Gave me no hopes, faith but fears.
While my peers walked the streets on shoes,
The only courage I had was my toes.
While on xmas eves they showed off new clothes,
I hid inside on my rumpled old torn coats.
~Poverty is no friend.
He who gave me birthday gift of sorrow,
He who made me see darkness in
tomorrow,
He who pushed me to the scorchy sun,
And made me play with thorns as fun.
He envied as I saw the light of education in pain,
And yet the paper-reward was without gain.
~Poverty is no friend.
Poverty, are you even a bossom foe?
When you give nothing but woe.
Today I have risen to fame!
No more shall you play me game.
Alas, I have won this roaring race,
Not by struggles but all divine grace.
~Poverty is at all no friend
(c) Richy Alzy
March,2016
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem