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