POVERTY'S GROSTEQUE RING OF VIOLENCE

Airyn Lentija

The scent of cold winds
on the harsh, high plateau
and on our house
have a thing in common:
the longing for a loving touch.

My mother once lived
within mountains...
suffered emptiness.

She hugged
a blanket of the night
with chilling breeze
and survived alone...

Now she's in her thirties
and has a son;
Me, old enough
to realize pain
and understand hate.

When I was ONE,
hospitals became my home...
I had colds,
diarrhea
and often I fell,
cut myself
and swallowed objects
like magicians did
because my mother
didn't bother to care.

I slept, ate
and played on the floor

until...

I reached TWO
I forced myself
to take a shower
on my own

I lived with a cellphone
next to me
so I could phone her
when I awake.

At THREE I know how
to make myself a milk
and kick myself out
of the house so I could
beg food from peers
because nothing was left
for me to eat.

I never refuse to learn
from anyone...
though my mother often shouts at me,
spanks me...treated me wildly at home.

Exceptional....
that was she.
Why is that?

My mother
who is now holding
a university degree
learnt to live
in solitude,
known no loving touch
of a mother's love.

Maybe that's why
she never loved me...
comforted me...

but I am her son
and I longed
to hug her tight;
She is my mom.

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Comments

This is very right dear young writer, as you can see it is a continuum.......poverty has many children too.

Olutosin Oladosu Adebowale Founder/Project Coordinator Star of Hope Transformation Centre 512 Road F Close Festac Town Lagos-Nigeria

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Thank you so much.This poem was inpired by Jackie's blog POVERTY VS VIOLENCE...the story is so touching and it really touches me deeply.

thank you

your friend

Airyn Lentija-Sloan

http://airynspoetry.blospot.com

Thank you for the poem. You have no idea how deeply hurt I am for this story, and I thus understand your sorrow.

Hugs dear friend,

Jackie

Jacqueline Patiño FundActiva Tarija - Bolivia South America www.jap21.wordpress.com

I wouldnt have come up with this piece if i havent get to read your journal.That story will always stay as an inspiration to me to do my best and use my talent to voice out the voice of the poor children.

your friend

Airyn Lentija-Sloan

http://airynspoetry.blospot.com