Poor Rich Man
Disheveled and homeless, laying on the street,
They walk on past, stepping over his feet.
Noses in the air, disgust cloud their senses,
Looking at the homeless like public offenses.
Not knowing that he once before had it all
But it was so long ago, he struggles to recall.
He lost his six figure job and all of his money.
He didn’t invest so he feels like a dummy.
Met with foreclosures and many repossessions,
He hit the bottle and fell into depression.
Poverty sadly doesn’t have a face.
Any one of you could be in his place.
Post Comments
Poetrysoup is an environment of encouragement and growth so only provide specific positive comments that indicate what you appreciate about the poem. Negative comments will result your account being banned.
Please
Login
to post a comment
Turn off ads, get more exposure for your poetry, and get more features with a
Premium Membership.
