Poverty Poem by Mary Champion

Hopeless darkness! and I make no headway.
My burden is too much for me to bear,
yet I cannot discard it unaided.
There are times when they reach out towards me -
some with the open hand of compassion,
seek to lighten my load, to clear my path.
More, from the exalted seat of judgement,
pointing their accusatory fingers,
oppress me further, add to my hardship,
punishing me for my life's misfortune.
Does my state offend their complacency?
or could I be a memento mori?
reminder of the merciless abyss
that fate holds in store for those of us who,
uncocooned by silver spoons, and lacking
buoyancy offered by offshore assets,
will falter and fall along the wayside.
Once, I had dreams, but now they are nightmares.
Once I had ambition -but it was balked.
Like those who judge me, I love my children
and strive to do the best I can for them,
but the best that I can hope to offer
is scarcely enough to keep them well fed,
no chance of raising them a rung or two
up the social ladder, on whose apex
my masters are immovably ensconced.
Enslaved by circumstance I can't control,
shackled by cruel chains of poverty,
my measure is the yardstick of Mammon.
I am judged by my meagre bank balance.
Yet, however wretched my condition,
am I not, your fellow man, your brother?