As I pull up from the ruins. Changing glass and wood surround me. Prisons built by others mine. Keep my focus on my plan to change things. Destiny unknown time is mine. Ruins I leave in time of pain. Never sing looking down on poverty. Once I knew how it once tasted more. You will remember my name. Because this sonnet rhymes with words I wrote. Telling all who read this passage. Telling of those wrongs of man. Men that lived had power to change. Taking one and then another. Thru this horror of poverty’s pain. Bless me now, I ask from high. Do your bidding till I die. Yet I hardly ever cry. Still I’m mad you all cheat and lie. Men of little care and wonder Taking all you selfish claim. Killing minor dreams of many These are things that I abhor. Draining life out of those you controlled. Tricked and pushed into poverty’s grip. Words I write on white and black pages Blood from my heart does want to drip. Look to the heavens Clean up self. Pick up your sword. Fight until you die. These are my word I leave you. Do not sit in poverty’s cry. Act only when it touches your family. Make a new plan law to soothe. Only death knocks at your door. Saying words that you know are needed To salve your wounds. Men of little but you don’t come thru. Lies all lies like a drunken man would say. Laughing at those you push away. Jumping joy in squanders name. This sonnet rhymes with say my name.