People say you’re not poor if you have clothes on your back and a roof over your head. They don’t know that I haven’t had new clothes since last year, they don’t know that my trailer home is slowly falling to pieces. They don’t know that my last real meal was a week ago.

I didn’t wake up to baskets of candy; I didn’t dye eggs or go on an egg hunt. I didn’t get to wear a new pretty dress or take pictures with my family; simply because poverty has taken over my life.

Most families go to church on Easter Sunday, play games, run around outside, stuff their belly’s with Honey Backed Hams, mashed potatoes, multitudes of veggies the award winning desserts I’ve only seen on the television.

Easter day, I did laundry at my grandmas, because we don’t have a washer or dryer; my mom made a small lasagna and a chocolate cake. It wasn’t much but it was like a delicacy.

Just like every other boring day of my life, we watched TV in silence, and ate dinner; Trying not to eat too much so we can have dinner the next day.

I’ve never let my lower-class; poverty-stricken teenage years get the best of me, but Easter, and all other holidays, sucks when you’re poor.