Paper Heart Poetry

Chaper 40:Poverty

Poverty.
It's like an overwhelming current,
Dragging you down before you can take a breath.

Its clutches are strong,
Almost invincible in fact .
It's strength will only ever be know by those who have been throw into it's relentless tide.

Money,they say,makes the world go round,
It's one of the many commodities I've never had,
My world has stopped on its axis.

Poverty,
Causing an extraordinary fear of standing out and,
As they type away on their iPhones and apply whatever brand of product is most popular,
I watch from a lonely distance in my second hand clothes.

They can't tell ,can they?
That I don't have their lavish lifestyle?
That I will never fit in with them?

But ,as I deny invitations to expensive dinners and make excuses,
I feel like I've become too obvious.
Like a stale scent in a field of clovers.

Even after I explain that materialism isn't my thing,
Is it bad to wish?
Wish to not be so obviously different?

Of course I am grateful,
There are many worse off than me.
I am grateful for my food and clothes,used or not.
For the roof over my head and all my basic needs are met.

But how can I be grateful for the sleepless nights caused by stress,
Praying my mom can afford school fees much less,
The rent or electricity or if finally this month,
I'll get to buy that paint which just costs too damn much.

I'm tired of feeling guilty for every treat I get,
But how can one waste money when you know the debit orders just can't be met?

I'm 16 for crying out loud,
Why should I cry myself to sleep because I'm scared we'll sleep on the street next month?

And in a year or two,
Will I be able to escape once high school is done?
How I dream of driving off to school,the one of my choice,
Without stressing and worrying about my lack of entrance fee funds...

How I want to yell in frustration,
When my spoilt friends get mad at their denied invitations.
They've never had to worry, about the cost of life,
Or hang their heads in embarrassment and make excuses to survive.

Am I ungrateful?You might think so.

I'm just a stressed 16 year old ,
Tired of the yelling about how we have no money,
So come on poverty,give us a break.

Just for a second,slow your currents ,tame your tide. ..let me breath,send me rest.

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