Rich Poverty On The Vulgar Street Poem by samuel nze

What critics may think improbable,
Today I saw with my own eyes;
In case you think it a fable,
Recall that I tell but few lies.

A hawker was answering a phone,
He had a call and was responding;
Had it bought it on a loan,
My curiosity to wonder was tending.

There was the spectacle before me,
Rich poverty on the vulgar street;
I felt in passions and frenzy,
The joy of my heartbeat.

Let the poor and the rich talk,
To people far away by waves;
Not just the great may balk,
The common man too craves.

A phone is no more a status symbol,
If an urchin can own it;
We feel it an idol,
I know for sure it isn't.