On Poverty

The true plight of the human

Poverty is dehumanizing. It creates an endless hunger in its victims. It renders you hopeless. Your brain slows down, it blinds you and kills you while you walk. You wander around, looking for sympathy. You exist for the next moment, live by default, by hope. 

Age gives you some dignity but you cry out for the bad in the world. Simple tasks become difficult. You think the world owes you a lot. And it does. It offers itself each morning but in your pain there’s comfort. Like a pig in shit, you do not know better. They robbed you off your ability to enjoy your labor. But they gone now, those beautiful thieves, yet you have been crying on that street corner, clutching onto what you had. You birthed your kids in that misery, they grew up to be bitter, fighting everyone but the thieves. When you breathe in poverty, there isn’t much to exhale.