Poverty is life's side-step of existence: to follow a path unable to leap

Left under the pile of rubble by those who can reap

To look to the beings who are able to fly

Of those who can reach out to the blur of the sky

It's an existence where people can only dream of a distant place

Kept away by the unyielding of a great wall's embrace

Like a mountain that many try to climb to reach what stands above 

A climb that seems only fulfilled by another's love

Those who make it can never look back to the cliff below

For it can only remind them of what they already know

A place that sends chills down to their spine

To a place that chokes away life like a vine

While they might pity or wish to give a hand to the bound

There's that fear of being pulled back to the ground

It is for that reason we often wonder

How could we help with the thought of being pulled under

Will those at the top never look or think

To those at the bottom who continue to sink