Squalor Poems - Poems about Squalor

Sunset in the backstreets. Coal and brick dust catches small glimmers and sparks. A cobbled together backyard grows yet shorter shadows a boy in kaki cloth plays with a beat-up red plastic fire truck. Mother at the sink her hands always scrubbing a red raw living. The boy looks up to where a brief sunset fades into the pale side of dark. At a kitchen window a mother rests her...

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Prepared Parlor Full od Squalor prepared our parlor which was so full of squalor not worth a dollar...

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Born into a life of poverty crime and squalor where hunger and cold winds bite and disease is rife and it was a daily battle to stay alive and find some food to stay alive. Uneducated illiterate caught in the poverty trap drinking polluted water from the same polluted cholera riddled tap. An impoverished woman sells her body for a cheap bottle of Gin and...

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Under a roof thatch born, The flesh of my mama torn, I wish I was never born, As that day my mama was gone. A cup of water to me is a trophy, A tea-spoon full of honey, I am lucky. A teenager, my head bears cement bulky In the site as my sweat makes my tongue taste salty. Red spots body-over,...

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He leans against the silent factory as bustling parrots regard his plight with heartfelt indifference bathed in the glow of touchscreen devices and the notion of absolution through repetition. Heels clack firm paced on schedules trampling the dust into pavement cracked and pocked like the lamentable stares of cardboard refugees sprawled limp beside grates pumping exhaust....

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Squatters acquire the land And no questions are asked. Hovers litter the place And open drains greet the eyes. Stench queezes the life But sellers defy the odour; Frequent epidemic and death, But the population continues to grow. Nobody to care; No questions are asked; Sheer naked life, Ever ready for the end....

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Poverty and rage is all he sees in a furtive,doleful glance, and the brightly-colored lights cannot console the wretched soul of his malnourished,shivering body: bundled up in rags and visible to all the hurriendly and careless passerbys, who seem blind in their own pretense... He rejects the mournful sounds interfering with his needed sleep; and yet,he lifts his drooping head to peak around the wratful trees to...

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