It's been 40 years, we still live in the dirt.

Every day I go to the light to scrape through the trash scattered among the streets looking for a little bit of food, the smallest bit of hope that we could survive another week. Every time I reach the top.. I'm beaten, driven back down to whatever I can call home. Nothing is home now, nobody has a home. Your only home is your mind.

The days commonly pass with drifters coming through, making an attempt at purchasing scraps or clothing off of us, usually ending in a deal between someone.
Death, famine, starvation, they're all abundant down here, the sewers stink of rotting bodies and whatever other decayed things lay around, along with feces and piss from the rich that stay in the bright.

When will this end.
When.. when will we see the light..
When will we see the light when it isn't engulfed in the darkness that it provokes.

2/10