Wail Of Poverty

i hear the wail of poverty, feel the constant pressure in my chest... staring with eyes, hardened and hungry, looking for a break. working past the point of numbness, sleepless under the weight... i hear the cries of small children, with every step i take. i smell the anger, and it smells like me, the cold sweat of desperation. the bullet phone, or papers served, one step from the edge. i taste the tears that men dont cry, and the cold silence of the women. the car that wont crank, the lights shut off, the eviction notice on the door. i hear the prayers of poverty, prayed to a god that doesnt hear. see the faces, and know the names, and recognize the footsteps at the door!