Poor Man's Novels & Stories

She was so kind, so he thought innocently that maybe she could help his other friends. "Miss, can you give some to my friends too? They haven't eaten as well since the other day.." The child asked pitifully again. "Haven't eaten?" Anika felt as if she was struck. How could children not eat for that long? "Where are your homes?" She can't help but ask. "We live in the streets. Miss, I'll take you there!" The child again eagerly said as he pulled Anika towards the sides of the road, towards the corner of the streets.

"You see darling, your father did not understand that gambling isn't for the poor and wretched but only for the rich who have enough money to lose. You poor people should stop getting hopes that you'll make it big from the rich, nah, it doesn't work that way. You don't get to have it easy; you have to strive and suffer for it." He grins, "It's fun to see them run around and hide after they fall in depts. The reason they get poorer and poorer each day is because they think they're no different from the rich, just because were all humans but you know what? You poor people have your own world, while we have ours, so you should know not to cross your boundary."

He had been wrong, but it's not like all humans have mistakes and have a second chance to change. "I am indeed a poor man. But I can support Monica. I'm not a mukondo guy who's on the dole," Anton said firmly. "If you're not a mukondo then what, aren't you living off the Manto family," Mr. Harun teased. "Uncle, don't insult my husband," Monica said. "You're defending your poor husband!" exclaimed Mr. Harun. "My husband is poor, he has also made mistakes, but now he is trying to make things right," Monica replied.

"Come on..." She pulled William to the side of the bed and said earnestly, "It's not shameful that he doesn't have money. We won't steal or rob him. No one will laugh at us. But if he doesn't have money and likes to brag, then that's a bit of a joke." A poor man was a poor man. No matter how arrogant he was, he was still a poor man. He was not only lying to others, but also to himself. You're a poor wretch. I've never looked down on you. No matter if you're rich or not, as long as we're together, we'll be happy. Isn't that more important than anything else?

Stacy had a nanny, a housekeeper, and a butler—she didn't have to lift a finger at all. As long as she stayed away from gambling, that money would last her several lifetimes. A young girl adopted from the orphanage—now she had struck it rich and lost a husband. Most people couldn't even dream of getting that lucky. So I didn't understand why, in everyone's eyes, she was somehow the most pitiful one. I was exhausted to see her appearing everywhere in my life, yet I couldn't even accuse her of being a mistress who wrecked someone's marriage.

I point at her, "She can give you anything you need." "You want MY poor sister to give me compensation for what you did to me? How fucking cheap," he shakes his head, "You are a cheap man. That's extremely disappointing, but I've heard before how rich people are the cheapest motherfuckers ever." "Yeah, they are," someone else murmurs. "Ivy is not poor, she has access to my money," I let him know, but he's still shaking his head in disapproval, "Man, even if I write you a check, it's going to come from the same fucking account! It's the same shit!"

I used the money to pay the surgery fee I still owed. The scar on my chest burned. My favorite brother had ever imagined. The so-called kind-hearted person was me, that greedy and fearful sister in his heart.

I sat on the sofa in the dark and ate my bread and cold cuts, taking a few sips from my bottle of water. Anyone who has ever struggled with poverty the way I have, practically all my life, living with an uncle who gambled 24/7, I know how costly it is to be poor. Honestly, I didn’t realize just how expensive it was until Blake abandoned me and left me almost penniless and homeless.

“We were very poor growing up. The kind of poor where going to the doctor was a luxury. My mother did hard labor to support us, shaving off years of her life so we could have food, clothes, and someplace safe to sleep. Ever since I could remember, I wanted to be rich. I never wanted to worry about my next meal, and I didn’t want my mother to have to put up with bullshit from other people. My ambition caught fire and never extinguished. Maybe money is evil, but I wouldn’t have it any other way.” Her knowing look slowly faded and was replaced by an emotional gleam. “That’s inspiring.” “The worst part of being poor is being powerless. You’re at the mercy of other people. People are far more evi

How could Elena do something so arrogant? The man, probably an assistant, turned white. He pulled out a stack of cash and shoved it into my hands. “Money isn’t a problem. Everyone knows how capable Miss Pascal is. She’s the most amazing businesswoman in this city!”