The Epithets Of Poverty Iv Poem by Raymond Cabrera

Poverty? I guess it is…
…the milk for the infant from boiling rice,
A roaming kids who search for scraps of metal or plastic,
A student that’s only relying on a scholarship,
It is the viand of only salt and petite rice,
Or dash of rice made as a soup for the entire family
You have no proper clothes but only one
You have no meal while at school or at work,
Selling anything at streets from day to closing night,
People with percussions, dancing in front of your house
A child, who plows a rice field in exchange for meal
A dull mother carries her child on her arms searching food
Chatting on a computer with a foreigner wishing to earn dollars,
It is the aide sweeping the entire city streets,
An old man cleaning sewers for small labor
An aged woman begging some spare to fill her cup
Children who treat their cart as their home
‘Tis the dreaming to be wealthy but left
Completely envy.