Poverty

By Ramish Rahim Shah

In shadows deep where whispers creep,

A tale of silent sorrow sleeps.

With tattered dreams and weary feet,

They wander through the cold, dark streets.

Beneath the sky, an endless dome,

No place to rest, no place called home.

Their eyes, a mirror of despair,

Reflect the burdens that they bear.

A mother’s hands, both cracked and dry,

Caress a child with lullaby.

The hunger gnaws, the tears run free,

In corners dark where none can see.

The hope that once did brightly gleam,

Is now a far and distant dream.

Yet in their hearts, a flicker small,

A spark that fights against the fall.

In cities grand where wealth abounds,

A silent scream, a haunting sound.

Invisible, they fade away,

Their pleas for help, a muted gray.

But in the darkness, voices rise,

A chorus of the lost and wise.

For in their hearts, a strength is born,

A quiet power, a breaking dawn.

Though poverty may cast its shroud,

And silence falls like heavy cloud,

The human spirit, fierce and true,

Will find a way to break on through.

With hands held tight and heads held high,

They'll chase the dreams that touch the sky.

For in the depths of night’s cruel art,

They carry light within their heart.

By Ramish Rahim Shah