The Poverty Poem by hortensia handy

American unknown man,

When he sleeps in his cardboard,
Every time, it murmurs a saying,
Then, he goes haggard air,
It does not meet the gaze.

Without accommodation, he pleads!

European unknown man,
Often, he drinks his beer,
H e refuses to be believer,
Then, he abandoned his prayers,
Imagining to be a loser.

Without friend, he thinks!

African unknown man,

It struggles against time,
Sat, on an employed bench,
Alas, life broke it,
It is not important any more.

Without family, it forgets!

Asiatic unknown man,
It is as a passerby,
And, near water goes for a walk,
Having no pseudo,
Tired, he lived solo.

Jobless, he hopelessly!

Oceanian unknown man,
On the sidewalk, it begs,
So much ignored by people,
That nobody outbraves it,
It starts to dream about money.

Without food, it collaborates!

Poverty in cities,
A festival of miseries is,
Emanating from countless galleys,
That intensify the complicated situations.

Hortensia