Poverty

I, the privileged one,
With food to last two square meals in my stomach,
Do not understand how,
You can die of poverty.
Go find yourself some work.
Stop being the scum that is upto no good,
Always tapping at out car windows,
Asking for alms.
Toil and labour,
For the sky is the limit I heard.
Fall into the clutches of vicious moneylenders.
We’ll find you by the pavement,
Drunk in a stupor.
But dream,
For the world is your oyster.
Aspire!
I refuse to believe you can die of poverty,
Or starve of opportunities.
I refuse to see beyond the promised land.
Come, brother,
Hold my hand and watch this nation change.
So cold.
I hold the soul of a man in my bare hands,
Cold and evanescent.
So long,
And dead.
@bewitchinglyme

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