Poverty Poem by Sydney La Roche

Poverty. He wants me.
He infects me like HIV.
Like a cancer of the soul,
Of which I can't let go.

Poverty. He rapes me.
He comes into my heart.
He thrusts at me so hard,
That my frail body falls apart.

Poverty. He chains me.
He locks me in a bedsit.
He forces me to suck it
And throws up in my bucket.

Poverty. He fines me,
'Cause I haven't got enough
And he thinks I like it rough,
And he doesn't give a f*ck.

Poverty...Assaults me.
He's mugged me for my body,
And my mind he's taken from me
And he leaves his seed upon me.

Poverty. He kills me.
I couldn't eat the pain.
I couldn't feast away
The shadow of that name:

Poverty.