Enforced Stupor and Torpor
A coterie of unschooled children in tow
A blind woman shambles from street to street
Stretching an emaciated hand in a row
Hoping a coin her kitty will greet
From impoverished passersby
Who tighten belts to breaking point
Restraining a famine cry
In an exclamation joint
That begs for progress
Hoping against hope
The blind undergo less stress
As dark thoughts crop
Up wondering why fate
So often unfair
Hates the pate
In which brains fare
Badly at the bottom of the pyramid
Where mosquitoes
Mistake them for a hominid
Bereft of tomatoes
For which they long
But can’t afford
Cos their pockets aren’t strong
Enough to jump on board
The tomato malady
From which urban dwellers suffer
Shady, ready already
Succour them relief can’t offer
As a coin drops into the extended hand
Eliciting a thank you
From a blessor who can’t understand
The humility that greets him anew
In a cut-throat
World that reviles the poor
Whose threadbare coat
And spoor swim in enforced stupor and torpor.
Copyright © John Sensele | Year Posted 2018
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