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Death Poems About Poverty

Poverty death poems and poems about death for Poverty. Read and share these heartfelt Poverty death poems with loved ones, friends and family members. Also, try our sister website's powerful search engine for non-death related poems or Poverty Poems.

Poem Details | by Patricia L Graham |
Categories: bullying, dark, depression, grief, murder, poverty, time,

Slaughtered Innocence

The hideous and the humble
Blood peppers falling snow
As world hurtles to the tipping point
Life chokes on ignited air
Wrenching love from hungry mouths
Stars fall without sound
Some weep helpless, day through night
Ever wondering how
Never knowing why ...

Poem Details | by Jacob Reinhardt |
Categories: abuse, age, art, business, career, change, class, color, computer, conflict, death, depression, devotion, flower, green, happiness, introspection, irony, jobs, language, loneliness, lonely, longing, metaphor, nature, pain, philosophy, political, poverty, self, simile, slavery, social, society, spiritual, stress, technology, time, today, together, truth, urban, visionary, wisdom, work, world,

The Color Missing

The Color Missing
Red, black, and blue are the colors of our work pens. Red is the color of the blood we spill on other people’s mistakes.  Blue is the color of the songs we sing on tax forms or pay stubs- every page has a secret melody. Black is the color of the streets we fear most. Black is the color of our signature of approval. Black is the color of our death.

‘But what about the Green pens?’ I ask. They say ‘the ink is too hard to see.’

Poem Details | by Blake Holland |
Categories: abuse, addiction, allusion, anger, anxiety, assonance, courage, crush, cry, death, deep, depression, desire, destiny, feelings, forgiveness, freedom, god, happiness, hate, health, heartbreak, heaven, how i feel, humanity, hurt, imagination, innocence, inspirational, lonely, music, passion, patriotic, peace, philosophy, political, poverty, power, prison, psychological, rap, rights, truth, usa, visionary, wisdom, youth,

I Don't Need Drugs

The only thing that is in my bong
is my gift of poetry and song.

Drugs are for thugs
that's hell in a nutshell.

I don't smoke
and I've never done coke.

Believe me
I know that I don't always tell thruth
and that I like to lie.
There has been enough brains fried.

Poet till I die.

Dedicated To All The Victims Of Addiction.

Poem Details | by Blake Holland |
Categories: addiction, adventure, allusion, anger, art, child, childhood, children, community, corruption, crazy, dark, death, deep, depression, desire, evil, fantasy, fear, freedom, future, gothic, grave, grief, imagination, lust, murder, pain, pollution, poverty, power, sad love, science, society, spiritual, spoken word, visionary,

The Future Starts Here

The innocence is transfusing
and overturning 
the goat skin drums
children of the mills,
children of the junkyard,
and savaging
and we keep filling them with
mercury, nitrate, espestice, baby bombs
blasted out of their shaved heads
and foraging

Poem Details | by Jasmine K |
Categories: class, death, hindi, political, poverty, power, society,

Worthless Pawns

The faded shacks stretch 'neath the stained grey sky,
As stagnant urine and disease creep in.
Hunched at the pyramid's tight base we lie;
Looked down upon by our superiors.

In this poor life we’ve been condemned to die;
Forever stuck in our unwanted caste!
Our tummies are filled with what can’t be sold,
Our hopes and dreams just playful fantasies.

Drained from its soothing warmth, the Earth feels cold.
Where, I ask you are the democracies
That stop worthless things like me getting sold?
We’re all just pawns, broken by society.

Unlike the wealthy, we’re easy to find;
We are the untouchables of mankind.


Poem Details | by Grace Faolian |
Categories: abuse, age, angel, anger, angst, betrayal, childhood, dad, daughter, depression, father daughter, grief, hate, loneliness, lonely, murder, poverty, teen, teenage, women,


I live where angels fear to walk
Don’t ask questions, no one’s gonna talk
Another kid’s innocence is being take
Their thirst for blood will never slacken
Love is something only found in a fairytale
But those don’t comfort, when home is spelled H E L L
Left alone for days on end
Nothing else to do but play pretend
Trying to get lost in a dream
But when that doesn’t help, all you can do is scream
I’ve called the devil by his first name
His eyes are cold, mine are the same
I live where angels fear to tread
By the time you find me, I’ll probably be dead

Poem Details | by Jessica Goldstone |
Categories: loss, social, sympathy, riddle,

Her name is Poverty

She tells me, 
Of the belt of hunger that clings to her waist, 
Of how it's only ever loosened by rampaging and rummaging through waste.

She tells me,
How her journey through payments, predicaments and pavements make her tire,
How her cracked feet and wracked heart are passed by Tyre after Tyre.

She tells me, 
About the intricate diagnoses and prognoses that riddle her every fiber, vessel and vein, 
About the cardboard pleas and pleads that have all been in vain.

She tells me,
That this is the existence her weeping womb has bred,
That her hope for her successors is that they may succeed her in the fight for bread.

She tells me,
Her name is poverty.
Do you remember her?

Poem Details | by KAYOD5 Kayode |
Categories: africa, betrayal, corruption, death, depression, poverty, power,


Their eyes oases,
How  shock they bury in tons-
Rots in high places

Poem Details | by Kolawole Owoigbe |
Categories: adventure, africa, black african american, class, color, community, education, emotions, evil, fairy, good night, goodbye, hope, identity, image, imagery, imagination, inspirational, irony, memory, mystery, poetry, political, poverty, remember, repetition, sad, satire, sympathy,

Boat Of Poverty

Why this boat?
Could it be boat of destitution?
Conveying Epidemics, Hunger, Rags,
Malnutrition and Illiteracy.

Descend from me!
Banish from my world!
You cursed word!
You that called education a"Privilege"!
Patrimony of ghetto!

W.H.O called you "Lion of Africa",
U N called you "Agenda ".
Predicament to black,
Livelihood to white.

Harking to conviction,
Capsize and rise no more.
For "Black Rose" to smile again
On the land of plenty.

Poem Details | by Blake Holland |
Categories: adventure, anxiety, appreciation, assonance, confusion, emotions, feelings, forgiveness, freedom, grief, happiness, how i feel, imagination, innocence, inspirational, murder, patriotic, poverty, power, prayer, pride, religious, sorrow, spiritual, usa, war,

Draw A Better Picture

Is it her calling?
I was just drawling
pictures of my feelings.

All these killers and retards 
we should be healing,
Insted we are keeping 
them from the world.

Tis it was the greatest story ever told
until our memories were sold.

Help us, lord
ashes to ashes 
and dust to dust
are the words.

I'm speaking to the nation
about a lost generation,
built off of freedom and innovation,
that was sweeping the nation
during the emancipation proclamation.

Poem Details | by William Johnson |
Categories: death, poems, poverty,


Famine, death, hunger
All concealed by illusion
Of our selfishness

Poem Details | by Blake Holland |
Categories: addiction, allusion, angel, anger, art, celebration, confusion, crazy, depression, desire, earth, emotions, fantasy, fear, feelings, freedom, god, grief, health, humanity, humorous, image, imagination, life, loneliness, love, magic, music, nonsense, peace, planet, political, poverty, power, pride, psychological, sound, space, spiritual, stars, stress, suicide, sympathy, teen, usa, wisdom, world,

An Aquarian Exposition

Take the pill
on the hill
and don't be shrill
when you see the rainbow
when you are low.
Just go with the flow
and eat the purple snow.
Chase the rabbits 
through the green field
but use my shield 
to end all of your habits.

Poem Details | by Gwendolen Song |
Categories: absence, eulogy, poverty,

The Old House on Hoover Street


There it sat empty and sad
Windows shattered and the bottom one boarded up
There it sat helpless and alone
No one there to protect its contents
A shabby two story on one of the most sinful streets in these parts
A dilapidated shack with its heart ripped out
Who dare go there now but demons and bats?
Why would anyone want to step foot into this hell hole of a trap?
Bring the bulldozers in I say!
Bull doze this bad memory of someone’s life! 
Rats are scampering about on its main floor
Bulldoze the pain of this once old house
Allow someone to rebuild another with a fresh new dream

Gwendolen Rix

Poem Details | by Trevor McLeod |
Categories: funeral, grave, money, philosophy, poverty, slavery, sorrow,

I'm Nearing A Store

I'm nearing a store.
Has it something for me?
No; I'm nearing the next.
Hoping there's something to see.

I'm nearing a store.
For something that's new.
Fearing the worst.
Hoping for few.

I'm nearing a store
for something I need.
Only to eat.
Hoping to feed.

I'm nearing a store.
Have I been here before?
Bored again and again.
Hoping that time will soar.

I'm nearing a store.
long after I'm dead.
Placed in a coffin my size.
Hoping I'm free and fled.

Poem Details | by V P Mahur |
Categories: grief, how i feel, pain, people, poverty, sad,

That is Humanity 1

I laughed aloud
To look at the strange
Action of a mad man
Who was standing
At the edge of the road
His expressions 
Were changing rapidly 
But suddenly
My laugh had a brake
And my heart became grave
Curiously, surprisingly
I saw his face
And on it 
An illegible trace
I felt something 
In my heart
Laughing at me
It was none but humanity

Poem Details | by millard lowe |
Categories: death, imagery, life, pain, poverty, sad,



Jaundiced eyes peered
from skeletal sockets
reflecting the daily fear:

Not of inevitable death;
but the agony of life another day.

The permanent stoop
of the frail body---aping
                           a living trophy of submission,
had long prepared its self
to endure the daily scavenge
of the garbage heap:

What a pity;
even a dying man must eat!

Poem Details | by Andrew Park |
Categories: care, devotion, poverty, sympathy,


There they were
Dirtied like untreated cavities. 
There on the mirror 
Our benighted oblivion for actualities 

Somewhere across or below
The solution is not shared to bestow
Nor mercy allowed to freely stand 
But only is granted to be banned

The truth gouges our knowledge,
The truth that humans are cavities
Without shelters nor ailments

The truth refuses to gouge our heart
But only accepts to gouge our knowledge. 

To be under our sky is to be under their sky.
Thus we are the same people. 

Poem Details | by Lebo Bopalamo |
Categories: emotions, eulogy, pain, poverty, work,

Dying ashes

I venture through the toiling of days
Crumbling nights
Ever hopeful though chanting septic cries,
Dawn creeps past worn-out
eye receptacles...
and the ashen graves they see
They once burnt benevolently 
for scarred hours
But now reflect the red glow
of dying ashes,
Fate has laid them in careful rows
beside the graves.
Seen from above,
they spell forgotten names
and trapped grief.
Each peck of the ghost of birds
wears out a memory in turns,
Each semblance of relief
dies in the glow of symbols...
A grave here
A tear there
Tied together 
by a string of clotting blood
and a trail of distant love,
Lined up as emotional tender 
for the dying ashes

Poem Details | by PJ Gongora |
Categories: april, death, funeral, humanity, poverty, society, youth,


T’was him I saw the day that precedeth,
The child whose labor eats and hunger beats.
His bony body lays covered by death
Eyes wide open, a vague sudden defeat.

Was it fate that killed an innocent lad
Or it is us who did none but pity?
Does God hear him whispering his hearts bad
So His loving hands took him silently?

Poverty a chronic disease we dwell,
On account of love, the love I hate most!
Lo, in money and power down we fell!
Strong rises above while weak takes all costs.

Justice, behold! Where is your presence flow?
Rain on this child poverty so bestowed.

Poem Details | by Paavani Dua |
Categories: grief, leaving, life, poverty,

Succumbed To Poverty

I may not have a bicycle to ride
But I am still happy to have a leg
I may have lost my respect
But at least I earn money when I beg
I may not have a good house to live in
I may not have enough to eat
But there is enough in the bins
I may not be able to read
But at least I have eyes to see
I may not be able to write
But I have not been made to bleed
I may tire out quite often
But at least I support my family
I may have numerous sleepless nights
But at least after falling I don’t have to kiss people's feet
I may have not earned well
But I have earned enough to breathe
I may have not led that good a life
But at least I have a minute before my leave

Poem Details | by Thum Chiean Tien |
Categories: age, change, confusion, grief, heartbreak, mental illness, poverty,


Standing in the crowd,
busy and alive
as it seemed to be,
with huzzling sounds
of the city.

But I only stood silently
as I watched
the people murmuring-
Every word has
a different meaning;
Every mind holds
a distinct theory.

Everyone has his mind
on everything,
they grow wild
by heaps and leaps,
as if they'll never 
get enough of it.

Poem Details | by sherelle smith |
Categories: confusion, death, hope, baby, baby,


Starts as a child
Happy wit joy 
No care in the world
Was not asked to 
be born 
But he's here

Sorry baby your mother
was addicted your father 
was evicted, killed by
his closest friends
Never held you but
he wish he can
Listen Listen to sound
of this child's voice praying 
Darkest fears was losing 
Greatest hope was 
don't talk baby its not your fault

He won't be able to eat
He didn't know
Will never learn to read
He didn't know
Will never enjoy childhood
Will kill But WHY
Will cry He can't talk
Will Pray
GOD says to Poverty Don't GIVE UP 

Poem Details | by J.W. Earnings |
Categories: absence, abuse, addiction, adventure, angst, beautiful, best friend, betrayal, blue, confusion, depression, emotions, freedom, grief, happiness, poverty,

Tainted Tourniquet - Bleed Inside of Me

Bleed inside of me
Hand me a tourniquet…please
Will it all away…

Fears and woes drown me
How could this be so, honey?
Give in to your pain 

You hold up a tainted tourniquet
As I fall on my knees
and pray...pray...

And past guilt and remorse...
piercing me like sharp pins 
And things are getting outtah course...

Things are looking worse
My wounds...ooze with blood and it's...
GROSS! O'cowrse!
My gashes...are taking over me...
and I'm throwing tantrums and fits

And I'm screaming...
praying for long-term, ravishing relief
To take away my endless, aching grief

Poem Details | by Rohan Moran |
Categories: addiction, environment, grief, loneliness, poverty,

The Station

I see you there,
Across from me,
In a corner people's eyes seldom reach,
Two jaundice yellow globes part a matted sheet,
A patchwork tapestry of deception and despair,
Woven from a lonely soul,

I walk to you,
Driven by your fearless smile,
Yet daunted by your hollow stare,
"Spare some change for the train Sir?"
The train I fear follows a different line,
As the tracks run up his bony arms,
Pity sets in with the sound of falling coins,
On a cracked concrete floor

Poem Details | by W.A. CHOLT |
Categories: child, conflict, death, poverty, war,

A Starving Child

Holding in her arms 
A Starving child 
His frail emaciated body 
Bloated with hunger, 
Indicts a world of greed.

                 W.A CHOLT. Copyright Fergal O Reilly. 2018.     15/10/18