Innocence Overlooked by Poverty
I leave my house exhilarated.
The delicate yard smell,
The rumbling truck outside my house belonging to the workers.
My so luscious clothes
That Mold my body.
My shoes dancing on my feet.
As I embark on my journey across the path,
“Be safe” I hear aloud
from my father chanting in the background.
As I look back to wish a big goodbye,I don’t see my father,my eyes shift.
My soul locks with the eyes calling for help.
The boy my age cutting our trees,
The ones who’s eyes cry of misery.
His clothes reek of overuse and Uncare,
I see in him.
His brain drowning in poverty and shame.
His hunger shouts at me,
He aches a need for help
Opening my eyes wide and clear.
My shoes stop dancing,
His eyes stare as I walk from the emptiness he leaves with me.
About the Creator
Pints & Parkruns: Jubilee, Spennymoor
If MC Escher created a parkrun, it might look a bit like Jubilee. Based in a compact – but surprisingly lovely – park in the small County Durham town of Spennymoor, it twists and turns its way up repeated hills. Although basic physics says it must come down again, somehow this route never feels like it gives runners a proper descent.
By Andy Potts7 days ago in Longevity
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