5,5th in my collection
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PLEASE NOTE:
I have created this poem towards a collection
meaning it is a continuation from a 'poor man's
thought'. This is not how i think or feel towards poverty
it is simply another viewpoint for my poetry
collection. Character based.
Please read my others 1-6 for the collection
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Success; the fruit on the tree.
A tree from years of growth, through
every storm and every axe.
I have made it.
I am welcomed.
The banker awaits – arms out for handshakes and
smiles, quick talk develops moment’s
friendliness.
But you are in the way.
Again I am stuck.
You hold me down, in problems
that are not mine!
Skin on bones will only
anger me,
your rags will only torment…
Why am I affected?
Am I the one to blame?
For your devastation, to pull
you out from the lake isolated
from the ocean.
I will not pay for your rope…
Please; I beg you to forget my face.
It isn’t my job to help you,
my earnings I do not waste!
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A small poem written by me
© 2010
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem