Destitution

0 Comments

Destitution

Dirty, broken buildings

The halls infested with rats.

A child lies curled in a ball

On a torn old welcome mat.

 

No heat within the apartments,

Refrigerator and cupboards all bare.

An infant in the other room cries,

As the cold licks his legs so bare.

 

Back breaking job

That’s not worth the pay.

Only the loved ones at home

Bring the smile at the end of the day.

 

©1989 KMDavis-Scheuer (Age 18)

Poem Comments

(0)

Please login or register

You must be logged in or register a new account in order to
leave comments/feedback and rate this poem.

Login or Register

If I feel physically as if the top of my head were taken off, I know that is poetry.

Emily Dickinson (1830-1886) American poet.

Luiseach’s Poems (27)

Title Comments
Title Comments
Forever Grey 0
Do I Exist? 0
Smile 0
Masks 0
When A Poet Can't Write 3
Imagination 1
Shapes In The Sky 1
Hiding 1
Destitution 0
The Candle 0
Never Let Them See You Cry 3
Inside Cry 1
Tears Of My Soul 1
Friendship 1
Thank You 0
Fathers’ Love (Song) 0
The World In A Dream 1
Summer Ecstacy 2
The Dance 0
Lovers’ Tango 0
Tranquility 0
Naked Before You 0
Most Precious Gift 0
Lucas 0
Logan 0
Soul Soup 0
Tears 0