Cursed By Poverty Poem by Martin Greyford

Hunger, anger
Emotional stress and heartbreak
Tummy aching
Stomach empty
Head paining

Wonder what will become of me
And what to put on the mouth.
Its been months now
Almost a year
Without a proper meal.

No shelter or
Warm brankets
Just rotting in the open
Angry at myself for
Failing to seek employment.

On the streets,
Saw my siblings fight
Over a ten cent
For it was something
That kept them running.

Questions arose in mind;
What wrong did I do?
Where did I mess up
And what should I do
To reduce the level of poverty?

Had a migraine
Caused it myself
And I can't bear
Drinking or having a sip
Of a glass of water

It'll worsen the problem
To the problem I already have;
A rumbling stomach
It can cause a throbbing heart.

Poverty is a word
That has been
Bothering me for too long
Even the poor people
Call me poor.

God, come and rescue
Your son from the curse of poverty
For it is boasting and
Its proud of itself
That I am poor.