Destitute Poem by Ruby ...

She cried.
Mournful sobs echoed in the confines of her small room.
Her tears tasted like despair as they slid down her cheeks,
And onto the floor she slept on.
She continued through the hours.
Only the sounds of her heart wrenching cries to keep her company.
And when there were no tears left for her to cry,
She cried anyway,
Trembling and Shivering,
With only a thin cloth and a shabby nightgown to keep her warm.
This is the life she leads.
This is the life she will never have the chance to leave behind.
This is destitute.