The many faces of Struggle


Trialed at the fetal stage, fate baptized

him a child of struggle and sentenced him

to the streets without parole – to roam

the earth like a stray dog.


He is the destitute child tottering through

the insomniac streets with heavy feet and

a hollow belly.

Weary from the doldrums of life- homeless

and braving the blistering cold amidst harsh


Scavenging for food with the marabou storks

in the garbage dump.

Uncertain about tomorrow- living for the day.


He is the street pharmacist perched in the

corner handing out shady prescriptions to the

desperate and needy just for a little cash.

Playing police story with the cops by night-

living dangerously, braving the blows for

a life embroidered with turmoil.

A hustler, life’s own storyteller.


He is the beggar squatting on the side-walk

with hands laid out for some pocket change.

Hands are shaky, voice is brittle – stomach growls.

He went to bed hungry last night.

His soul is scrapped raw, hope falters.


He is the black man strutting through

the cold streets of prejudice and


Segregated against because of his

deep melanin- a victim of racist attacks,

societal labels, stereotypes and injustice.



Stuck inside a big empty bubble-

Struggle rewrites her life with a new story.

Labeled a freak, society declared her an

outcast to be repressed.

Every day is a struggle.

She deals with trials and tribulations with

pain etched on her face.


She is the single mother with tired bones

and muscles trudging down the staircase

of hardship with the make-up of distress

plastered on her face.

Stepping into hell’s kitchen to brave

the wicked sun’s disdain, the children

must feed.

Tragedy is plunged beneath the surface

of her thoughts.

There is no humanity for this face of hardship.


She is the young woman with unfulfilled


Wears the debts of society- and the plight

of every unemployed woman.

She is Academia’s prodigal daughter with

refusal  letters smudged on her forehead.

Not good enough for any job.

Opportunity evades her.


She is the teenage girl dealing with cyber

bullies on social media.

The silent voice of pain- a victim of constant

harassment because she is different.

Depressed; numb from the pain-

struggling to be heard.


She is the sick old woman seated on the

reality’s porch.

Crippled by distress- recalling past pain.

A woman haunted by the past, living

in a society plagued by evil.

Tired of the world-  waiting on death’s

welcome party.



Connected through the strings of

Hardship- struggles are shared all

over the world.

Clutching on the strings of faith

freedom wails in every core.

Everyone is dealing with something

and hoping for better days.


You are not alone.


©FloetryC 2017


struggle 2art struggle


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, 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.

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