The cycle of poverty

[lailathemuslim]

My hours were ever so choosy,
as Sunday and London became gloomy,
i slept through the day,
as flowers fell under my duvet,
as autumn has initiated its wealth
my skin cowers, yellow with bad health.

The brown leaves confirm my spirit,
and long-forgotten nightmares
the forbidden glare, so weak and timid
has accosted back to me like 70's flares.