I am Poverty

I am the disheveled woman seated at the corner

of the street with parched lips, a pale face and

rheumy eyes.

Scratching my face and body, observing passersby

like zombies from a bad horror movie as my stomach

riots in protest.

I roam through the hot and dusty streets like a lunatic.

Scrounging around looking for food, picking filthy

scraps flung from dinner tables.

Taking the scolding and beating from restaurant

owners like a champ.

Vying with the marabou storks for left over foods

thrown in the street.


I am the impoverished woman living below the

poverty line.

Dealing with life’s many hurdles in my career.

Red carded by success, struggling with lack of


Pocketing frustration and distress, trying to

walk through a financial tight rope in order to get

out of the poverty zone but everything is stagnant.


I am forlorn- the poverty stricken employee living

alone in a tiny one room apartment with worry

wrinkling my brow.

Exposed and exploited- slaving for more than 60

hours a week for just pocket change.

I am the sick woman who refers to medical care

as a luxury, instead of a necessity because i am

too poor to afford treatment.

I stare at people across the street from my shadowed

doorway because of my emaciated body.

Always choking on debts, overwhelmed by the rent

on the table and accumulated bills as homelessness

lurks outside the door like a criddler.


I am the rusty monument in the middle of the city.

Trashed, mocked and ignored.

The pathetic stench overshadowed by the fumes of

perceptive paper.

I am the glamorized images of poverty circulating

around on social media.

The countless unheard stories buried 6feet below

your radar.

The portrait smudged on the faces of some charity


The life lesson for souls wallowing and drowning

in poverty with tattered barriers of hope.


I am poverty, living hand to mouth, struggling to

survive in a bad economy.

Clutching onto hope that someday I will crawl

and claw my way from such an abyss and catch

the bus ride to success.


I am Poverty: I wear the faces of hungry children

all over the world and bear burdens of the homeless

with my indefinable spirit, strong will to survive

and a rich mind.


I am Poverty. Next time you see me on the street,

please stop and say “hello”.


©FloetryC 2016



Author: AfroetryC

I am an African woman and a mother to a precious little angel. I love to use the term "Afro-floetic Queen" mostly to describe my poetry and my roots. I love poetry...art, soul music and inspirational bits of knowledge to offer advice and counseling to those who need it. I can be very witty, straight forward but fun. Ha. ha... A colorful perception of the world - expressed in my poetry. I want to inspire people with my Poetry...give them hope, while also advising them. Life is a learning process and i am happy when one of my pieces directly affects or inspires one of my readers. Let's take a detour around experience, and let me fill your minds with sweet poetic juices.... Note: Just changed my user name from FloetryC to AfroetryC because the latter is more personal and describes my Spoken Word Poetry better.

2 thoughts on “I am Poverty”

  1. Hi,
    I have been nominated for the blogger recognition award and I’am suppose to nominate a few bloggers whom I like to hand this award. I like your blog and would like you to continue with this chain of awards. Please check my post if you are interested and your participation is completely optional as I understand you might have already been linked similarly from someone else and choose not to do the same again.

    Liked by 1 person

  2. Sorry for not giving the complete details. If you choose to recognize the award, here are the rules to the nomination….
    To accept your award You Must :
    (1) write a post to show your Award
    (2) Acknowledge the Blogger that nominated you
    (3) Give a brief story about how you get started blogging
    (4) Give two pieces of Advice for new bloggers
    (5) Nominate the deserving 15 bloggers

    Liked by 1 person

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