Crowded Dreams of Despair

I fell to my knees and bowed low before the overwhelming sight. The slums, deafening to the senses, the bombardment of urban poverty.

A sorrowful dream.

My mind is congested with the endless faces and haunted eyes of urban refugees, migrant workers and Thais. The so-called campaigns to eradicate urban poverty is merely a gimmick, perhaps for the upcoming election for the prestigious governor seat, or a hamster-wheel where the urban poor run aimlessly in that loop while the social elites watch in amusement. Its as if future generations are condemned to a life of servitude, chained to this culture of apathy and bond by desperation.

Society claims to know the truth. Is that so? Yet poverty goes to the gutter, along with the lives of children and the adults. The struggle seems lost to the urban folks, or cover with the refined illusion of prosperity.

The poor at the bottom of the social pyramid have the choices that we make available to them. In the end,  a nightmarish existence awaits them.

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