Keck .
Keck .
Keck .
His beack dragged on the dirty floor
That floor?
Was no longer where he dances happily
"Ha. ha . ha."
Even his laugh was broken
No sign of the beaming light but
DARKNESS.
Teck .
Teck.
Teck.
His nails scratch against the dirty floor
There was no force left to lift his foot up And walk
But
scratching
And
Dragging
Scratching
And
Dragging
That was his way of life
YOU ARE READING
Poverty
PoetryThis is a poetry book. the purpose of this book is not to make you feel sympathy for those experiencing hardship around the world only but simply open your eyes about poverty and how it is affecting people all around you. This book will be mostly o...
