They point as we pass by,
Labelling us poor.
Shaming us
Pitying our attire and glow.
Young and brilliant as we are,
With a bright future ahead of us…
Yet we are labelled based on our parent’s background.
For they have nothing shining like gold in their pockets.
They are not rich but penniless…
They are just humans struggling to survive.
They are poor; yes I can’t deny it,
But we are not.
We are not poor!
Young as we are.
We are still trying to pave the journey to our future.
Picking up every piece of poverty bombarded by our parents…
We are trying…
And we will break through the poverty pond
And we are not poor…
Education is the mother of success,
That is the weapon we hold onto to change what we have been labelled…
We have turned into books worms,
We breathe and dream books…
We eat and think about books.
Poor ain’t our label,
Our parents craved only the best for us,
They go miles trying to support us.
They sacrifice their lives to make sure we never turn out poor like them…
Sometimes I even shed a drop a tear…
Seeing how they struggle…
Becoming slaves to earn that little coin to feed our tummies…
It is working with heavy machines that drain the blood only to put us in school.
And the worst, being reminded of this poverty every day.