Darkness surrounds
Like a black tomb.
Nothing happy
Survives in the gloom.

It eats you, chews you,
And spits you out.
It tears you, rips you,
'till you can't even shout.

There are unhappy creatures
Wandering around.
Weeping, moaning,
Yet, there is no sound.

There are no smiles,
No cheerful laughter.
It is always night here;
There is no morning after.

"Where is such a terrible place?",
One might say.
It is all around you,
Look, at your own dismay.

The woman down the block
Provides for her five kids
With nothing but a low-pay job;
It's a wonder how they live.

The poor blind beggar,
At your street corner
Is paid to go to funerals
As the single mourner.

Old Mrs. Larson,
(With the bad knee)
Can't afford a door and lock
With a matching key.

This darkness is very real,
As you can see.
This plague upon mankind
Is known as poverty.

Yet, this darkness isn't permanent;
Things can always change.
It can be turned to glorious light;
The power is yours to rearrange.

The darkness could be here forever;
It may not always be there.
Nevertheless, be wary, my child
To not get caught in it's snare.