Poverty Line Poem by john wake

Driving across the country
I gazed at trees, all bare
The houses all shacks
Tightly packed.
The polluted and plastic ground
The car called casually,
A "beep" here a "peep" there
Fuel
A victim of the duel
Between friction n the wheels
And as it burns
We look for a turn
In this straight line road
And miles from the shack town
We enter brick lane town
Of Bloemfontein
Here mansions
Neighbor each other with no tensions
And its soils cultivates assorted flowers
Which replenishes its atmosphere.