Little Poetry

I wrote this poem in response to a link put up on FB by a friend, called Art Platform. As the directions said, I found a picture that I was inspired by and wrote a poem about it. Even if I decide to send it in and they don’t accept my submission because either it stinks or because I haven’t even graduated HS, that’s okay. It was fun to write anyway. (Oo I rhymed). Hope it’s some what intriguing! [Inspired by a photograph called “Rain I” in Havana, Cuba, by Paul Cooklin.]

One of the Poor

Here in the low city street I curse,

For I used to be the man who took First.

I was wealthy once, too, you know.

I could hold my own until that last blow.

A bad day at work cost me my pay,

And since then, I’ve laid on the street all day.

Oh yes I’ve tried to get back up,

But who takes a man who has a Poor Cup?

No one does, I’ll tell you that,

No one hires a man they can hardly look at.

You might be like me someday,

Lying in the street, wasting away.

You’ll sit by a lonesome puddle,

And in the rain and cold you’ll huddle,

Because no one will lend you a helping hand,

Nor give you a smile – you’ll misunderstand.

Many will pass without a second thought,

But I could have sworn that’s not how they were taught.

Oh what does it matter? I’m done for anyway.

No house, no car, no family, no pay.

No one cares of a poor man dying,

Good thing this rain can hide my crying.

So until I die, or the Sun shines once more,

I’ll be wasting away, like one of the poor.

[work is original and the sole property of Abigail Krocker]

More about the Art Platform poetry contest:

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