A Life of Poverty

The days are long and filled with strife, Struggling each day just to survive. Without a job. money is tight; Hunger gnaws at empty insides. Clothes are worn and falling apart, Home provides little comfort or heart. Cold seeps in through cracks in the walls, Warmth is a distant memory from falls. Work is hard to even find, Opportunities always seem behind. Each day is a challenge to get through, With so little help, what's a body to do? Poverty weighs heavy each night, Dreams are the only source of light. To envision a life with enough means, And not have to worry about daily scenes. But poverty's grip holds so tight, Escaping seems an impossible plight. Each day is a battle hard fought and won, Just hoping someday a better life's begun.

Eon

I love to write about my life, my family, and my Christian values. We struggled growing up but our parents always found a way to provide us with what we needed. We grew up laborers, working in the fields in Minnesota, Wisconsin, and Texas. My 8...

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