School through the Poor kids eye's 8/15

Every day I walk to school,
with a dozen of holes in my shoes,
an icy wind blowing through my coat,
and a cold that would give anyone the blues.

When I get to school the chill gets worse,
from them emotional pain I endure,
kids laughing cause I cannot afford the basics,
and my future is never secure.

My lunch is always the basics,
just enough to silence the growl,
because with all the kids in my house,
the one with the food is the one who can howl.

No one knows my father was an alcoholic,
and gambled our savings away,
leaving us in the gutter,
and my mom with the bills to pay.

They don't know it's always a struggle,
and my mother's still out of a job,
so the bills keep piling up,
along with the few times we've gotten robed.

They don't know my sister's got MS,
stuck in a wheelchair till the end of time,
and I'm the one who helps look after her,
by saving all my nickles and dimes.

No one knows my mother is never around,
she's always out looking for work,
leaving me and my siblings on our own,
shivering in the house's woodwork.

Nobody sees me,
they just see what I don't own,
as I walk down these twisted halls,
trying to avoid going home.

©
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