I wrote a paper in school
  about ancient myths
using an old typewriter
  and by candle-light,
wrapped up in a comforter
  that cold winter night,
despite the propane heater
  in the dining room.
All of our utilities
  were shut off for months,
electric, gas, and water;
  we had no money.
We were getting food-bank meals,
  and making our own
candles out of reused wax.
  It felt pitiful,
and in the days leading to
  my paper due date
I was told repeatedly
  that it must be typed.
The school library was closed
  before my last class
ended, and we had some fines
  at the public one.
Here's a myth I often hear,
  though not learned in school,
party politics will say,
"They wanted handouts."