“Poverty” – a poem

This poem was written by a woman who attended a class through a PRC partner site. It is shared with her permission.


It’s hard to fathom what some may do

easy to judge when you haven’t IMG_5590walked their shoes

Hunger will change you

as a child begging for food

People seemed cruel and rude

How could saying you’re hungry be misconstrued?

Constant victims of abuse

My family was starving, I had to produce

The truth hurts too much, not an excuse

Our house was filthy, clothes were dirty

Why weren’t we worthy?

Trying to comprehend how momma could hurt me

Why my daddy would desert me

Begging God to save me, why would He hate me?

This can’t be my life

Spiritually robbed of Light

Nobody’s living right

Why was love hidden?

Children forced to make adult decisions

Is everyone addicted?

Don’t they see our condition?

Would we ever escape this prison?

Depression a family tradition

Desperation would send a mother and her children into the arms of a molester

She was supposed to be our protector

Not our neglector

The screaming and beating never seem to ceaseIMG_5593

Her children would soon be on the streets

Would they ever find peace?

Suffering would continue to increase

Thinking it might be better to be deceased

Money and Power were chief

Constant sorrow and grief

Begging God for relief

If knowledge is Power


Surrounded by darkness

We stumbled upon empowerment

It must have been heaven sent

A break-through in my ignorance

Information I can implement in future decisions

So my son won’t become a statistic

Optional optimism

A first glance it seemed unrealistic

Light shining through in a dark lonely prison

Hope risen

Could they understand this was the hand we were given?

Can people find in their hearts to forgive?IMG_5591

We made bad choices trying to live

We are the seeds of the have-nots

In a world where everything has a price

People don’t seem to value our life

Constant gunshots ring out

Tragedy finds us far too often

So many RIP’s, people soon forgotten

How to end this properly

Where I’m from the Bill of Rights is a mockery

We were never taught properly

Misunderstood by those in authority

All we have is generosity

Our neighborhoods breed hypocrisy

Some of us still maintain integrity and honesty

We all have qualities

It’s not our fault we were born in poverty


~Brandy Gale Gardner

Moving UP Graduation, Loaves & Fishes

April 19, 2018




2 Comments Add yours

  1. Truly impressive work. I’ve been roaming around WordPress and I am glad I came upon this post. Very inspiring.
    Hey, I am Ragazza, I hope you could follow my blog page if you don’t mind. Cheers! 🙂


  2. Monalisa says:

    Brave, powerful and honest.


Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google photo

You are commenting using your Google account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s