National Poetry Month 30 in 30 Challenge:Day 9

Antique pen and inkwell

She sat in the office
Looking down at torn boots and old socks
The stench was of old crack and dirty diapers
She would not look up, stuck in the cloud of haze her subconscious had slipped into.
Nowhere to go, she felt worn
One right kept repeating itself
I don’t belong here…..
The same mantra was going through ever other mind in the office…
They did not know that’s why they were there
Because all of their minds were stuck un the same place…
Poverty

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