The Story of Poverty | Short Story

As if the counselor for cure is defeated
As if in death, malady has been treated
As if this time heart is hurt anew
Though beloved had oft before retreated
Your loving palm caressing my forehead
Is balm for my soul highly feted
There was this lack of warmth within
Though with an open smile beloved had greeted
The poor live from hand to mouth
The story of poverty is ever repeated
- Parveen Shakir