Poverty Is A Salesman On MLK BLvd.

A poetic warning to my sister to always cherish what she has.

I've seen poverty
Yet he and I are strangers
He walks with his wares
Such as coveting and danger
On every major street
He sets up shop
Offering high interest loans
To buy "what you ain't got"

The folks on the bus
That you really don't know
He visits them daily
They say prayers when he shows
They go to other stores
And he follows them in
To whisper cruel taunts
While they look through bargain bins

When you're down to your last dollar
While out at the store
Seeing the cost of what you want
Is just a penny more
Don't think that poverty is there
'Cause truly he is not
In fact he only comes
For those who haven't got

Poverty is a man with too few friends
Mostly greed and negligence
His best friend is nicknamed bliss
Dear faithful ignorance
"I didn't know I'd need insurance"
"I didn't know I'd need that job"
"I don't know how to run my business"
"I didn't know I'd married a slob"

I'll tell you what I know for sure
About the salesman Poverty
Because I know with all you've got
To you, he is a novelty
He sleeps with those who sleep past noon
And eats with the dissatisfied
He rocks the cradle of those born too soon
But never, ever, lies

When he starts to look at you
With that certain gleam in his eyes
I wonder what I'm supposed to do
Or should I even try
I've heard some rags-to-riches stories -
The fortunate and the blessed
I've seen more homes where hope was borrowed
And time didn't care to test

When Christ said the poor would always be
Poverty shook his head yes
Then sat down on MLK Blvd.
On his laurels for a rest
He walks with his heart on his sleeve
And smiles with the broadest grin
But if he calls softly to you
Turn around and be rid of him