I only despise the poor
Because I know one day
I’ll have to sit with them
And listen to them tell
The same stories
To justify their poverty
And I’ll be helpless against
The boorish unfortunates
Because I’ll have nothing to say
Since poverty has nothing to do
With positive thinking and hard work
But instead comes about
Like gooseflesh
Under the winter moons
Of a forgotten sky
hijacked amygdala 
Yes, you’re right. Poverty often has nothing to do with how hard one may or may not have strived in life. The rich stand on the backs of such as these. I really like this piece, G.
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Ooh, Gordon, I’m really ambivalent about this piece. You’re right about how poverty can strike at any time and doesn’t depend on positive thinking or hard work.
I am poor. Thankfully not as poor as I have been in the past. Most of the time I don’t feel poor. But sometimes when I need something . . .
I surely hope I’m not a boor. And in my experience the stories behind poverty can be very varied. Twists of fate. Accidents. Ill health. And so forth.
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Touché. I grew up poor and knew a lot of bores. When I hit skid row again I hope I will meet people more like you. Also I don’t really despise anyone.
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🙂
I hope you don’t have to go there.
Thank you.
That’s good.
🙂
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Haha brilliant. And that line ‘I’m helpless against the boorish unfortunates’ I liked the tone. This piece is easy to misread. And love the ending.
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Thank you Babe
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Perfect length. And gooseflesh. Very good!
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Thank you!
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my pleasure my friend! gorgeous work
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