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Poverty
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Poverty

Poem By Luca Menin

Oh mother bosom, holding your child
Yours arms, like a nest of warm cuddles.
Cast shadows, the heaven cool shade
Your words, hungry, fed of sour milk and sore
Trapped, pouring into empty stomachs
Embrace humanity- poverty
That the hearts of people, leisure devours.
The rich fantasy of your child
That embraces childhood games of spice.
Where life dwells.

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Comments (1)

A great heart toucing poem.


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