RoseAnn V. Shawiak
Empty, vacant lots, standing barren, desolate, forgotten.
So much like the poor are portrayed in every day news and stories.
Yet, never does anyone look beneath poverty, it's joy at times, of very little things.
Staunchly sitting at the edge, looking over, knowing that at the end their situation in life is better than those with lots of money.
Worrying only about daily existence, eating, necessities of life, while their counterparts are constantly stressed and worried about keeping up appearances and not losing all they have.
Poverty at certain levels is beautiful in it's sparce inconvenient ways.
Life lived on a thin thread is more satisfying in the end, because there are no things material or otherwise to worry about.
Souls pass peacefully to heaven, for they don't have to hang on to unimportant things, they can instead spend their time with family and close friends.
Passing the few minutes and hours in quiet joy and remembrance of past good times.
RoseAnn V. Shawiak's Other Poems
Read this poem in other languages
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
Comments about this poem (Poverty's Beauty by RoseAnn V. Shawiak )
The Road Not Taken
If You Forget Me
Still I Rise
Edgar Allan Poe
Stopping by Woods on a Snowy Evening
I Know Why The Caged Bird Sings
William Ernest Henley