Life of the Poor

Wed, 01/13/2016 - 21:55 -- xxzee

Wandering around the street

Looking for something to eat

Asking for money

But they didn't give any


The cold, polluted air

Sticks on my hair

Nowhere to stay

I don't know what to say


Walking a thousand miles

Just to find some tiles

For me to sell

And you to tell


I am underestimated

It makes me devastated

How do I survive

If I'm not alive


Treated as hindrance

In every circumstance

This is not the end

I need a friend





This poem is about: 
My community
My country


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