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Tell me, how can we fill the gap between rich and poor
How can you tell me; there’s no different between sweet and sour
Put on my shoes and walk through my sea and shore
Then you would feel my pain and see all the things I’ve saw
Go through my head and hack inside my deeper thought
Look in my heart and see the war I fought
Those born to poor family are forsaken by the gods
And if they wish to be rich, they must fight the odds
Life is hard and never easy for those born into slums
Poor children, they wish they were never born
In the slum part of the world, you will only see decay
Homes and gardens looking shabby; their sky is old and gray
The poor walk on the ground with their barefoot on mud
And the rich walk on the ground like their shoes ain’t meant for dirt
And they will treat the poor like a slave; like they’re one of em property
Don’t count yourself a failure if you’re born into poverty
Dis Po' ol'boy is rich as can be!!!....yessir !!! gots me a tribillion words at my 'sposal anytime I wants em o be.
Kellin Aug 2018
Growing up my parents were always selfish. They'd rather subsidize tasteful cars than their own child's education so they could prove worthy of societal thinking.
They'd rather finance love through glamorous things instead of investing in actual intimacy.

Maybe if loneliness wasn't my parental figure then this existential adult life wouldn't be spent in monotonous cognitive states
I am 22 and shouldn't have this much hate in my heart
Lyn-Purcell Aug 2018
╰⊰✿´ℒ♡ⓥℯ '✿⊱╮
Golden, flaky, and so crisp
Layers of flavour
Lemon, honey, cinnamon,
tangy syrup drips
chopped walnuts, almonds,
whipped cream crown
Fork!
╰⊰✿⊱╮
Sixth Epulaeryu! ^-^
Hope y'all ain't getting cavities from my poems lool.
I love baklava! Especially when it's made fresh!
Lyn ***
Lyn-Purcell Aug 2018
╰⊰✿´ℒ♡ⓥℯ '✿⊱╮
Slim, flavoured meringue cookies
Smooth top, chewy mid
Petite, but perfectly round
Filled with buttercream
Ribbon-soft in mouth
Take two bites
Yum!
╰⊰✿⊱╮
Third Epulaeryu for the day on Macarons!
Love these! They're a guilty pleasure! ^-^
Lyn ***
Pauper of Prose Aug 2018
With filthy fingers crusted in mud,
In ignorance we blissfully rub
Precious people and meaningful moments the wrong way
Until reflecting in our catalogue of memories one day
We see their true worth, the staggering figures of what they cost
And wisely lament on our poor loss
Jabin Aug 2018
Tender, tiny dollar bill-
you give my time such worth.
Give my life to buy a thrill
And a box put under earth.

My gravestone sits over there;
paid a pretty penny.
Manages to look so fair
Surrounded by so many.

The car I drive is so nice
For my ride to the yard
Do not ask of me the price
Lest your dignity be marred.

My golden watch is better;
Reminds of time well spent.
Paid off the hassling debtor.
Lived at work to pay the rent.
Mateah Jul 2018
There is a line                           
                                             That none dare to cross
On one side is riches                                       
                                      On the other is loss

The thing that stops them
Strikes fear like a wraith
It's the "truth" of deception
In those who have faith

One side is worse                                   
But ignorance is bliss                                          
                          ­              You cannot cross over
                                                            ­Or in your next life you'll regress

In                there          no        
       reality                is          line

The            line     ­  within
only           is    

The line has been caste
                                                    down
But
the­y
ignore
its
abolishment
DISCLAIMER: I do not mean to offend anyone by this poem or the meaning behind it. Poetry is raw, which means it can be harsh too. The way I speak of Hinduism in this poem could be considered harsh, and I apologize if it does.
EXPLANATION: Okay, so this poem is inspired by the caste system of India which is heavily based on Hinduism. The caste system basically places a person in a caste (or social grouping) based on the family they are born into. The system says that you cannot change your caste (i.e. if your father was a soldier, you have to be a soldier). If you do try to change your caste, it is considered bad karma; you may become a lower being or lower caste in your next reincarnation. The caste system used to be enforced by law, but was legally abolished in 1949. However, due to it being a religious practice as well, it is still upheld by many people in India (specifically the more rural areas). With this poem my goal was to sum up the state of some of the Hindi people of India in relation to the caste system.

P.S. Sorry for the essay! :)
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