Poem in response to No Poverty
January 2018
By Caroline Sun
Photo Credit: Wix.com

We are far from home.

Empty fields,

empty house.

We left

for a better life, but

all we found

was

more suffering.

More pain.

More loss.

Death.

 

He says,

it’ll be okay.

But his empty eyes say

otherwise.

 

He tells me that

we’ll survive,

but our empty pockets

hang heavy.

 

He promises,

I’ll protect you.

But his empty voice drifts

away, lost

like everything
else

I used to love

 

We are far from home.

Empty lives,

empty hope.

He’s all

I have left, so

I clutch his hand

tightly

in mine, and try

to

hold on.

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