Life of a man in poverty is pure experiment,
It effortlessly starts in the morning on each day
Swaddled in acuteness of despair and hope,
Hoping to pass on food for breakfast and lunch
Without test of agony in hunger pains;wistfullness
As drive for opportunity of super is forcefully atomic,
Projecting for bliss in posterity without education,
As paranoia of a merchant awaits disillusionment,
Pumping into regular snags from fortune creation,
As economic powers that be fix final nails
to the coffin, in which rests twist of fate,
Hoping for global relations to succor the times
As self reinforced poverty fetters all experiments,
Happening to be in the pauper’s laboratory,
Converting everything all into poverty’s turf.

tactile was ivory fingertips on ivory keys,
passion was ballads of heartbreak and mornful melodies,
melancholy was cargo hanging under my eyes,
wistfullness was empty laughs and heavy sighs.

dejected was weighted arms and tarnished mirrors,
lethargic was xanax breakfast and whiskey tears,
restless was never asleep before three,
a shadow was all you seemed to have left of me.

solitude was choosing to spend my time alone,
but lonliness is now no one picks up the phone.
heartbreak is the promises i always thought you'd keep,
i'm tired, so tired, it's time for me to sleep.