The Abyss of Poverty

Stuck in an abyss of poverty

Hungry for cash and a real dinner

Lack the backbone to peddle

From the dirty hands of

Hard working laborers

In sweat saturated flannels and t-shirts

Work boots covered in mud

Their pride as big as a grizzly

Out to gather for their cubs

I follow suit as I leap from

Dumpster to dumpster in a hope to

Collect old treasures that others find useless

Plan to pawn my way free

From the jail cell of destitution

Eat the table scraps of rotund plutocrats

Shine the shoes of the nouveaux riche

I prepare to roam free

Out on the range of wealth

A place where I am rich from beatitude

No longer handcuffed to the affliction of penury

*Written 10/3/2016 from the prompt “collect”


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