Poverty creepsa loathsome step, never announcing its arrival,
from finer means to meagre times, now dependant for survival.
To clothes that smell of thrift shop musk and shoes already worn
by people now long gone or dead, ...and coats quite warm but torn….
The checkout girl's impatient ‘tut', you counting every penny
to find you're still a little short -and must decide how many
items to discard to make the cost meet yours;
Eyes looking down in shame and knowing that this pregnant pause
reflects your future now.
When each step forward seems as though you take a step reverse,
as bills arrive you look within a deep, black, empty purse.
You work at making both ends meet but goalposts have been moved,
the person you once thought you were is gone and times have proved....
you're now invisible.
Poverty is punishment….and you still serve the time….
Poverty is shame…and yet without a crime…..
Poverty is lack of aspiration and of hope,
of living everyday and praying that some way you'll cope.
Deprivation reeks of apathy and fustyhalf driedclothes,
the smell of social housing mildew lingers up your nose
The rich will tell you that so many things in life are free,
I spend free time imagining people poorer still than me….
The mask comes off, the drink comes out…or would if cash was there,
My soul is dead, my spirit gone…. this life feels so unfair
2 - One way to cut down on poverty is to cut down on people, as horrible as it sounds to some people. may i suggest more available birth control and less money spent to keep OLD and incapacitated people alive? ? ? Don't hit me! ! bri :) p.s. i doubt anyone (intelligent) ever said life must be " fair" . to MyPoemList. i was pretty sure i'd find a poem worthy of my reading, ....and i was correct!
1 - line 5: girl's I'm guessing the goalposts were moved farther from where s/he wanted them. favorite lines (of many) so far: " Deprivation reeks of apathy and fusty half dried clothes, the smell of social housing mildew lingers up your nose" if i were a very sensitive person, this might bring tears to my eyes (i mean the whole poem) .
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Lodigiana thank you for your hard hitting poem to hopefully throttle and smack any reader in the face as a wake up call to life and its legions of poor everywhere around them in today's take take and wanton greed society. My late father taught me when I was young, the only thing free in this life is the air that you breath. Five stars and the war against poverty everywhere still rages on. And perhaps one sunny day.... Take care. Shaun. x.