Hollow lives...
He works like a slave, six days a week,
To keep the wolf at bay.
Austerity has hit him hard, his penance every day.
The "Establishment" says it has no choice,
Tough measures must ensue.
He's considering the food bank for his child is thin and blue.
His dignity is all but lost, like feathers in the wind ,
His hope Is torn to ragged shreds,
His eyes are hollowed, tinged with red.
He sheds a tear for all the dreams now shattered shards like glass,
His path a rocky desolate grind,
Secure as smoke rings in his mind.
He knows what dark hell lies ahead, the torture that awaits,
His fragile human life seems cheap,
Once used, discarded on the heap.
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Author:
Camille (Pseudonym) (
Offline) - Published: August 18th, 2016 05:46
- Category: Unclassified
- Views: 51
- Users favorite of this poem: LIGHT WARRIOR
Offline)
Comments4
Thanks for caring CAMILLE and it is repeated millions of times over. Not just in the "so called" Third World but increasingly in the UK and the US. I've never been hungry or homeless and I am single with no kids (that i know of !). The least i can do is to contribute to the local FOOD BANK ~ Yours as ever BRIAN
Thanks for reading
Thank you for bringing to light this dark spot of society. May it come to end some day
I hope everyday
Really enjoyed it and good use of words to capture the mind of the reader. Thanks for sharing.
Thanks for reading
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