Poverty

An attire that could classify as rags,

Stained, torn, and faded,

His gut clenched,

Nervous, weak hands,

Begging every passenger

For any left-over food,

Or money,

With no power to move forward,

He still went on,

Slowly,

With a uniform pace,

Painfully,

To survive the night,

To escape the clutches

Of this insatiable hunger,

To accumulate a few calories

For another round

Of the same routine.

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2 thoughts on “Poverty

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