I lived in a poverty ridden town,
The ones fortunate enough to have food,
Did not share,
The ones with extra clothes,
Threw them out,
The ones with big enough houses to share,
Did not open their arms to us, but shoved us away,
I slept in a ditch,
With many other people I did not know,
The world is selfish,
The people are conceited,
Except for the few that try to help,
My mother always told me things would change,
They did, but not for the better,
My mother died from an infection,
I found a shovel, and buried her body myself,
There is no tombstone,
Just a big rock, with no writing,
I did not cry,
Just stared in shock,
I did not eat,
Or sleep,
Strangers took care of me,
They are the only family I got,
They care about me, as if I were they own,
I love them and they love me,
This is the way my mother would have wanted it,
Maybe, someday,
I will go to school…