I sit here in loneliness,
Merely a plague to society.
As I watch life regress,
Existence lessens in variety.
I’m reduced to absolute squalor,
Forced to reside in the slums.
I must not waste a single dollar,
Or further into poverty, I succumb.
Darkness is my domicile,
Wretchedness is my life.
Conditions to survive, so vile.
I’m engulfed within strife.
They call me” meager peasant”,
I am automatically shunned.
To bear witness to me is unpleasant,
Worries for me, they have none.
I stare into the dead sky,
Pleading to God for assistance.
Though he does not hear my cries,
And does not grant me forgiveness.
I find this life to be inescapable.
This fact, I have ascertained.
This has proven me completely incapable,
Of breaking this cycle, so mundane.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.I would like to translate this poem