This poem is written from the point of view of many people, as well as myself, highlighting the ongoing struggle to make it through poverty, but more importantly, to make end’s meet in a weakened economy.
As I look out my window, and I see gray skies,
Constant struggle is what I see, aware that others try,
Counting pennies everyday, wondering if I’ll survive,
Knowing not to give up, Knowing I still gotta strive.
I’ve seen men on street corners, trying to get that extra dollar,
A single mother on a corner, trying to feed tomorrow’s scholar.
Ghetto life is a challenge if you’re not born into it,
Corrupted youth follow lies that our media still transmit,
I plead to all my brothers, give the youth a fighting chance,
Our future is in danger, don’t let it fall in a trance.
Crooked politicians scheme to take away our money,
Unaware of the reality, and thinking that its funny,
As I write this little rhyme, and I stare at my feet,
I wonder If I’m gonna even make end’s meet
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