Prisoner Of Poverty


Just knowing that I am poor,
is a fate crueler than death.
It’s even harder to think straight when i am prisoner of poverty,
while in the cold confines of my cell.
I am lost in thoughts,
imagine there’s mouths to be fed.
No possible job in site,
clothes and food to buy,
but I am broke as hell.
Bills, debts stacking up high,
and I am barely getting by.
Prisoner of poverty that I am,
trapped being these walls,
peeking from steel bars.
thoughts of escaping, constantly plagues my mind.
tirelessly trying to make a plan,
every corner I turn I am surrounded by poverty and his gang.
Poverty your prison can’t keep me down for long,
my plan is to execute the greatest escape.
It might not be today,
but I am definitely working at it for tomorrow.
your feeble minds can’t understand,
for Poverty’s prison I need to get away from.


3 thoughts on “Prisoner Of Poverty

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Google photo

You are commenting using your Google account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s