The poor choice
Like the humidity on a hot summer day,
it clings
There is no breeze to carry it away,
no escape
Sleep is restless in these smothering conditions
That are tiresome at best and deadly at worst
How lovely it would be
For poverty to become a choice
Good options would arise
On a tidal change
Setting adrift the strain of worry
For who would choose poverty?
If they had the freedom to choose
But there lies the truth disguised
For how do you get out?
When the price of life is high
And the cost of labour cheap
Capital ideals of hypocrisy
So the sea of poverty continues to rise
Where to next?
Paid distractions seem to appease
In a market restrained from change
Until you come to know
Awoken with a fright
Like the disconcerting call
In the middle of the night
The system failure was pre-set
To snatch dignity from the worker’s hand
To shame, to silence
Leaving them to walk alone
Clutching the twenty dollar smile
How far can it go?
When all that it buys
Is just a poor choice
-Camille Delaquise
This poem appears in RISE, Camille’s second contemporary poetry collection. The poor choice explores the lie of poverty as personal failure — exposing how economic systems are structured to cheapen labour, erode dignity and recast injustice as if it were an individual moral shortcoming.