PoemsBrowse PoemsSlamsFresh DropEchoes
LearnWriting TipsPoetry TermsPoets & ArtistsBooksFor Teachers
ExplorePoetry GenomePoem MapEchoesTake ActionGroups
AboutWrite a PoemDonateSign UpLog In

Third World Country, Child


 

 
My ribs are whirled outward such as rabid waves.
 
They starve amongst the depth of the ocean,
 
they are forgotten.
 
My flesh is a canvas and
 
I am hungry, hungry, hungry.
 
There is a melody of flies buzzing within my ears.
 
The motion of dust dances beside me.
 
Disease is prone amongst my bones -
 
It lingers within me, deteriorating my home.
 
My eyes are wide, they are deep -
 
From viewing sights of  Poverty, 
 
Inequality.
 
Sometimes I wish I could devour freedom for breakfast, lunch, and supper.
 
Freedom to choose my situation.
 
The sun grazes upon my eyelids,
 
my eye lashes become sun rays.
 
I am warm, my soul is first-class.
 
I am not just scorched with heat due to the hell that I am facing.
 
I long to capture the good lingering within this cruel ordeal -
 
But if god created such a life,
 
Why did he choose me?
 
©All Rights Reserved

Something wrong with this poem?

Share

Replies are closed for this poem.

Your Poem's Voice

See what makes your poem unique — its voice, energy, themes, and the literary traditions it draws from.

Comments (0)

No comments yet. Be the first to share your thoughts.

Log in to leave a comment.