Voice of "The Poor"

I open my eyes before the sunrise,
awakening for another day of hopelessness,
when will there be a cease to my bleak days,

will I ever come out of homelessness?

I head for my so- called “work”,
where I get nothing, but oppression in return,
treated with injustice and cruelty, I whine,
but suppressed is my voice, against the tormentor.

Carrying a dejected gloomy face,

I walk towards my crooked house,
“when will I go to school?” asks my daughter,
“when will I have new clothes?” says my spouse.

Not a word comes out of my mouth,

what shall I ever say to them,
I slide away from there, brooding,
on whether will this ever come to an end.

When will I see the silver lining,

when will my agony break completely,
my long for a smile is still unfulfilled,
humanity is not eradicated entirely.

Please, make efforts to uplift our status,

let us at least have a proper bread,
unrecognized, with a fake smile, I move,
starving and hungry, towards my bed.

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