One Drop Poem by Ben Akinpelumi

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When stomachs ache
nights get filled with sighs
eyes drop fire to burn minds and humanity loses its worth.
Palm of rich aches to sell poor's pain
to bell hunger's cat
inviting buyers, merchants
to fix prices of poverty......
Tears heal labors' days with deep reliefs and cheap habits
of smiling to make rich smile
of becoming rich in poverty....
with none to torch them anew.
Exploiters too sing their saddest songs
for not becoming rich in kindness for perpetual poverty in outlook
to heal their fallen conscience in
isolation
not finding contentment anywhere
anytime.
I'm poor in wealth I'm poor in health but always feel rich in inks' light
with a heart enriched by solemn might
that can dominate mind's indomitable
pains.
Laughter of unfortunate riches stoops
before our cries making us feel richer than them
making us puzzled to decide
whose poverty actually matters