Been rich, been poor, been somewhere in between,
been a peasant, a jester,
a warrior, model citizen,
Poverty’s been my trans-parent teacher,
as jobs got me by, without the career advancements, within my grasp and reach of my finger tip’s tries.
Most lotteries hit, struck a nerve in others, as true natures, came alive inside they’re peace, each time, I thrived,
Yet behind each, break, in life
I found, no matter the characters chapter, I still cried.
By Tamara Dorsey-Moore
Thinker on the Loose
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