I suppose my first thought upon reading this prompt was the definition of "poor." I'll go with a poem.
My heart does this thing
When I see your faces-
It goes Boom Boom--Boom
And then I see that look
In your eyes that plagues
Your days and creates a
Watery liquid that drowns
And I'm so sorry life has made
You feel that way. It isn't right
And even though my heart it
Goes Boom Boom--Boom, for you,
It aches likes an ingrown nail.
Pushing into the skin, though
No one sees the pain. So I try
To figure out how I will fix it.
Without having the right clippers
With me at that very moment.
I try to make a plan to make
The pain go away.
I wish I had the secret to
Winning the lottery. Or the secret
That would make that boy fall in
Love with you. Or the secret that
Makes business succeed. Or that
Secret that creates a smile on
Your sorrowful face.
But I do not have that secret.
Though my heart still goes
Boom Boom--Boom for you.
And some day, I hope the Boom
Boom--Boom will be just enough.
I like to write; point blank. This is a little piece of me that I get to share with the rest of the world, and hey, you know, maybe you'll appreciate it, maybe it'll do nothing for you. But my writing exists, and that's enough for me.
© 2019 Silvia Iorio. All rights reserved.