Crumbs of the poor
Ive fallen into a deep clout with mixed emotions... Draining the life of me from an ever lasting glee. I used to sing the moments of being free... Now time wasted on trying to find simplicity. I can't bend over backwards for just anybody.
I won't allow myself to feel the ignorant ways of what doubt brings.
A slave to proverty, I must find ways to regroup and center myself... The betterment of all things to come, I have yet to find my balance between right and wrong. I've been displaced in a chaotic world where financing the better things, I'm shaking hands with being broke. I speak a language no body knows, and I'm trying to convey my side of the story. How does it feel to be homeless is a question asked far too many times and I can't contritidict myself when I say that it is the one form of stride that you get no applause for. You try to survive on crumbs of the poor.
I can't shovel out a different version of myself anymore.
Stricken with hope, I have felt cruelty towards me. I am just a mortal gaining enemies as I climb the offer of dismuse. I can no longer find a cost that isn't too cheap... So I invest in myself in ways that aren't too hard to reach, and wish for the best with clarity....