1880 Worn Hands and Poverty
A woman’s task to save her family from the poor house
1880 Worn Hands and Poverty
Dawn breaks cold on a house too small,
Five mouths to feed, no rest at all.
Three jobs waiting, no time for tears,
A life of hunger, a life of hard years.
Soap won’t clean the dirt and grime,
Sweat and dust, the price of time.
Hands are cracked, the work is rough,
Still, it never feels enough.
He once stood strong, proud and tall,
Now he’s nothing, now he falls.
Jobless, penniless, held back,
A man now lost on a one-way track.
Coins run thin, the cupboards bare,
Bills stack high, no mercy there.
No space to dream, no time for rest,
Just one more shift, just one more test.
The world don’t care for women like her,
Breaking, bending, never heard.
She keeps on moving, day and night,
Trying to keep everything right.
About the Creator
Marie381Uk
I've been writing poetry since the age of fourteen. With pen in hand, I wander through realms unseen. The pen holds power; ink reveals hidden thoughts. A poet may speak truth or weave a tale. You decide. Let pen and ink capture your mind❤️
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Comments (4)
My heart broke so much for her. Loved your poem!
Life was so hard back then. e complain, but we have no idea of what hard life really was like. Though in some places, this still exists. real truth here.
Some would say that her reward is coming someday but doesn't know when. Good job.
Damn. This brings back so many memories from my early days.... Well done!