Poverty

Cold, damp and lonely, an endless cycle of never ending misery, masked to prevent fear in my children. Small, torn and always second hand, my clothes are as dull as grey stone. Large, dominant and mountainous, debt is forever increasing over my head; it weighs heavy on my shoulders. Dark, gloomy and sombre, my life is deprived of happiness; entrapment is the only feeling in my mind. Poverty is what my daily life seems to reflect causing others to make assumptions of my character; taunts created cause anger and sadly shame for I am barely able to keep afloat in these dark times. My home is nothing but a place of hell; walls peeling, dampness covered surfaces, destroying health of many, food deprived cupboards, and barely any warmth during the season of winter. Poverty, an unspoken creation seen as nothing but shame, never accepted within the worlds of the more affluent classes.