Poetry: Poverty

Nature's Seeds

Sun stained face
Coloured black from the rays
Bathed in a continuous flow
Of salty stenched

Love of a Friend

A shaggy, mangy mutt as her only companion
A starved, elderly woman sat all alone

As famished as she was she

Dirty and unkempt greets the morn,
Wondering why it came to be so torn.
Played the game by the golden rule,
Just to become

I look into the eyes poverty and it makes me cry.

This poverty causes you great pains.

I can see it in your battle