RoseAnn V. Shawiak Poverty Poems

Twinkling stars of poverty's eyes, stay stranded in
my mind, watching the depravity of lives starving
inside for companionship.
...

Stoically living from day to day with no future to
see from inside poverty's boundaries.
Needing necessities, hope, faith - nothing is
provided beneath blankets given by shelters.
...

Empty, vacant lots, standing barren, desolate, forgotten.
So much like the poor are portrayed in every day news and stories.
Yet, never does anyone look beneath poverty, it's joy at times, of very little things.
Staunchly sitting at the edge, looking over, knowing that at the end their situation in life is better than those with lots of money.
...

Destined for fame in literature, based on what others
say, not myself at all, only writing for one purpose,
well two, I guess.
...

Silence of the night, poverty scraping the minds and
stomachs of those who are living on the street.

No home to go to, necessities of life are non-existent,
...

Leaving everything in God's hands, having found out that
His plans are far more abundant than anything I could've
ever thought of.
...

Walking this earth, listening, finding out how others live
in other parts of the world.

Poverty abounds everywhere you look, never skipping any
...

Moving forward into an exquisite design of interior life,
watching it's patterns being coded and expressed in whole
new ways in intellect.
...

Poverty - the slums where children have to fight their
way just to exist, where parents either don't care or
can't afford to care.
...

Loving this country, knowing the many faults of government
that has torn it apart from the inside out.

Greedy politicians with personal agendas being held more
...

Listening to music of spirituality that's been put to rock
and roll music, fantastic, superb tempos and rhythms, taking
intellect soaring into many new avenues of ideas and concepts.
...

Stretching legs and arms as we dance to rhythms strong and loud, taking us further into patterns of another life almost upon us in this end of being.

Moving rapidly, going down tracks of reality, hoping life will give more than it receives, living in a dense atmosphere of poverty without wanting to.
...

Reading in faces of other people, the needs of their souls,
poverty of interior lives illuminating the position of their
beings within the fruition they give to others.
...

Raising expectations, knowing that they will be met in
time, allowing an internal spirit to open and blossom.
...

Everything is abright, life continues it's journey
through moments of time, taking this being with them.

Finding novel ideas blooming along the way, stemming
...

Filled with anxiety over not having a place to live after
this week, tears down hope and joy, replacing them with
doubt and fear.
...

Working frustratingly slow, thinking of the poverty of
our souls.
Wantonly reaching degrees of safety far apart on
different horizons within.
...

Regaining composure as I listen to silent melodies
before me in lightened rhythms being played on a key
board.
...

Shattered windows framing frightened faces,
terror-stricken hearts grasped in fear.
...

Babies kept in prison by people tired of living,
there is no hope, love is barren, arid, deadened
by hurt.
...

Havoc being played upon an earth of people as they struggle
to live from day to day.
Making ends meet is no longer a tangible way of being.
Government has crept and cramped our lives with their inane
...

Stressing the little things in life, always remaining true to the roots of poverty left from a childhood held together by a mother who loved us with all her heart.
Taking care of all our needs and keeping us as safe as she knew how.
...

Life of poverty, lived in abject hopelessness, stands starkly,
proud of it's existence on earth.
...

Our lives on earth are based on poverty, why then should anyone make a 'vow of poverty'.
No matter what we accumulate after we are born, it cannot accompany us into death.
We are born with nothing but our life and intellect in tact.
Those of us who are lucky enough to maintain our intellect to the end must also lose it along with life when we take our final breath.
...