The thoughts and poverty

To wake up every crack of dawn and

raise your head to

find nothing is protecting you is quite


To be judged and ignored from the rest of society.

To be shamed and labeled because

the only clothes you have are the ones from the first day

this pandemonium began.

All you can do is swallow bitter realizations.




That you are stuck in this web of

discouragementa and hopelessness.

The sunken feel that eat you away from happiness.

Only to clutter your teeth

and raise your hand with open palms.

Palms that are bruised from all the

anguish and commotion from wanting a home.

Thrashing against concrete and metal.

Curling up in a tattered blanket asking:

what did I do to deserve this?

So you ask for something


The sounds of coins and paper catch your attention.

A tender smile appears...

There is a spark of hope.


This poem is about: 
My community
My country
Our world


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