and into the face of the poor
the impoverished -
those who feast on heaps
of beans and hamburg
and more beans
those faces -
vacant without a vision for tomorrow
no legacy to leave behind
except leftover clothes
from Sally Ann.
I sit here among the haves
contemplating the future of the nots.
My vacation via an expensive car
with
loads of gas
scattering smog in
a neighbourhood of grief and sad
lives - - moms and dads trying so hard.
Once I was one.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem