poverty is not my cousin,
is not my lover,
is not my preacher,
poverty is not my brother.
poverty is not my prayer,
or the song that i sing
is not my answer
poverty is not my dream.
poverty is not my teacher,
not the hand that i hold.
poverty is not my anger,
not my spirit, not my soul.
ah! but this poverty is real
it races thru my mind
crashes into my heart,
& leaves me deaf and blind.
poverty is my companion.
the aching cold inside my hollow.
the blow behind my eyes,
poverty is the shadow
inside my shadow.
This is a very good poem, i like it and i enjoyed while reading it.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Yes, poverty strikes very deep. Great poem.