Poor Ride

I wrote this poem during a difficult point in my life. But everyday I feel the pressures of a cruelly beautiful  reality and I still smile. I laugh like its going out of style. Play games like its juvenile. But that’s just me. And I WANT TO SAY… Thank you for reading .

moving train photo
Photo by Erik on Pexels.com

Poor Ride

flood took the car 

but left me 

leave no food 

for the crows to eat 

 

commuting to uncharted lands 

by public means 

the smell of overripe piss 

the signs of distress 

 

no right to pursue happiness 

for those who have less 

in a world full of deficits 

those of meager means are encouraged 

to be hopeless 

 

ignore social protocol

and still not be seen 

as people cast their eyes to the side 

to avoid awkward scenes 

is this life or the residue of a nightmare’s dream?

 

Love Always, Esha

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