She works to support a family of five
husband rarely visits his daughters or wife
through home-made slat windows
she watches children dance with shadow
while rubbish nearby continues to decompose
the water they boil for they dare not risk illness
the alleys a maze of squeezed shrillness
we're the worst some of them have been told
looked down upon no matter which household
yet the woman unnamed has no complaints
would not leave her simple way of existence
in one house a grandad offers his best tea
while his grandson beatboxes to crowds for free
in another a woman carrys her first baby
has no time for what ifs and a sporadic maybe
they smile with geniune happiness and gratitude
while the masses view with judgement skewed
it strikes me with brutal force that those less fortunate
embrace storms braver than those who seem dead set
to place such style of living in a misconstrued bracket
I'll never resonate with those who fail to see
that money won't make their souls soar happy
I'd rather have humble conversation with the grandad
who offers the best tea while his grandson beatboxes
to eager cowds that sway outside his house for free
Poetry©Words Among Trees
Photo - Shutterstock
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