Poor Man's Novels & Stories

I do not understand why someone would degrade themselves to use men for money, but then use all of the money they get to buy useless sh*t like handbags and perfumes. Like, start a business, invest in something. Use the rich to get rich. There is always a saying that states the richest man barely uses his money because he does not find any use to flaunt his wealth and that is how he stays rich; while the poorest man would use what little he has to portray himself as rich while he stays poor because he does not save.

He looked very weak and sick, his face pale and covered in sweat. In his shaking hand, he held a single match. I thought to myself, uh, this is exactly what poor people do in situations like this. They try to get pity from others by acting desperate. They pour fuel and pretend they will light it to escape hard work or gain some advantage. But deep down, I knew they never have the real guts to carry through with it. It is always just a performance to make people feel sorry and give in. I felt a bit annoyed but not surprised at all. This kind of thing happened sometimes.

Donning a bob cut and a no-nonsense expression, she stared right at the camera and began, "Hey, guys. Today, we will be steering off our current series. Permit me to tell you a story..." "There's this guy, let's call him Mr. Minimum. Mr. Minimum is from old money, so he became a multi-millionaire even before he could crawl. Well, now, he owns a company and is doing very well for himself. But like many rich folks, Mr. Minimum wants to eat his cake and have it. He pays his workers stipends and defaults in taxes despite making millions off the backs of Americans. One day, someone blew the whistle, drawing attention to Mr. Minimum's tax evasion crimes. But guess what happened?

Adrian’s hand touched the small of her back. Light. Warning. Possessive enough to make her pulse trip. “Her name is Elena.” “I know her name.” The old man’s smile was slow and unpleasant. “Elena Hart. Waitress. Mother in St Catherine’s Hospital. Three months behind on rent. No savings worth mentioning. No family powerful enough to object.” Elena’s face burned before she could stop it. Not because she was ashamed of being poor. Because he had said it like poverty was a stain on his carpet.

If it's anything I can help resolve, I will do my best," the guy said sincerely. Lisa laughed in her heart, "I'm sorry if I ever tell you of my problem, you are going to run faster than you ever have," she thought in her heart. But still, she was really happy that someone offered to help. From their interaction, she could tell that Williams is a good man. Williams is the name of the poor man. He seems very intelligent and educated, which surprised Lisa. She wondered why an educated person like him appeared so poor that he cannot even afford to pay for his meal.

"Do you think such gifts are bought by mouth? Do you think you can just wake up one day and become rich? Even if you worked and were paid a thousand dollars a month, do you think it makes you less poor? Such a nameless person claiming to be what he isn't! You are nothing but a stealer of another person's glory! "Can a pauper like you afford fake silver jewelry talk more of real gold and diamond? Look at your clothes, they are so frayed and ordinary! Are these the kind of clothes a wealthy man wears? Gosh, your big mouth will get you killed one day! Such an arrogant punk!

She hardly ever talked to me like she was better than me. I am busy at the diner cleaning the tables with Jimmy walks in. I am not in the mood to see him right now. Why don't you hang out with his best friend, who just got a new apartment? Since his friends like to rub it in his face, Jimmy and his parents are very poor and can do with an apartment like that. His parents are staying in a house that is almost falling apart. I do not understand why poor people always have to bow to the kings of wealth.

Because I had nothing to lose. “Too bad.” I forced a smile. “I don't have shit in my name…” His grip on my hair got harder, and I muffled a groan. “What the hell is that supposed to mean?” “It means…that I don't have any wealth in my name. I'm literally a poor man. Poor as a damn church rat.” His eyes twitched in confusion. “What?” “You heard me.” “That's impossible,” he seethed. “Don't you dare try messing with me…”