The curse of not having.

In fate's twisted game, life's not always fair Circumstances conspire, forcing hands to beg and pray Responsibility's weight crushes, as daily bread's a test A constant struggle to survive, with dignity repressed Those with means, they polish shoes, before lending a hand A hierarchical dance, where the needy must stand In line, with hat in hand, awaiting scraps from above A bitter truth: beggars can't be choosers, a hard-won love A faint smile creeps, when crumbs are offered, a meager share A fleeting joy, that can't dispel the underlying despair For in the shadows, users lurk, mockers jeer and scorn Those once close, now depart, leaving emptiness to mourn Loneliness creeps, like a thief in the night Leaving the have-nots behind, in the dark, without a light In every queue, they're last, in every line, they're least Their voices silenced, their hopes dashed, their future's cease Their dreams, like autumn leaves, wither, fade, and fall Their hearts, once full of hope, now shattered, beyond recall Their souls, once free and wild, now caged, and locked away Their minds, once sharp and bright, now dulled, in disarray In this cruel world, where haves and have-nots collide The curse of not having, a burden.