The Poverty
The poverty
It has been raining for days, but now the sun shines
the walls of the old ruin look whitewashed and with its pride intact.
Sunlight makes paucity look nostalgic, a whiff of the old days
when life was supposed to be simpler; a movie by Sophia Loren.
We go on romanticising time of need like it should be an honour,
and the poor are so funny they speak grammarless and happy.
Nevertheless, we give obeisance to the past, a ruin no one in
their right mind will spend money on.
Ah, but I was wrong, and English gentleman- if this adjective
comply, often it doesn`t- has bought the dwelling, plans to
keep its front so it will be an old looking new house and will
live with a churning cement-mixer for weeks.
Whatever happens in the future is none of my business
today is a beautiful morning.
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.
