Poetry for poverty.
I am thy neighbour, I asked you for water to quench my thirst and you turned to your
house and called me lazy.
I am thy neighbour, I asked you for bread to ease the pain of my hunger and you
called me greedy.
I am thy neighbour, I asked you for shelter to protect myself from the lingering cold
night as the sun begins to rise, and you scoffed at me.
I was thy neighbour, and I live light years away from you now.
Were the songs of my chattering teeth not melodic enough for you? How about the
rhythmic sound of my stomach mimicking the sounds of an unborn child in her
mother’s womb? And the silent cry my emitted from my throat?
Connected by this celestial body yet we are so disconnected,
But I know that every forty years we will align, will you not be there?