On steep plains, it fades like weight Compressed beneath crowdy privilege Plank-wood biscuits crumble, fettered for ants Dusty fingers bury colors, vibrant life
But the crowdy privileged glance through The compressed, like a stolen breath of rest Oblivious to the struggles, the weight Of poverty's crushing, suffocating fate.
For those living in the subharan part of Africa or African continent at large. Poverty is a common disease, disease of the mind and soul and sometimes, brain becomes a dead man living