in the poorhouse

Their names were lost, and not much about their lives was known beyond the barest facts: an old age spent in the poorhouse, a problem with cavities.

Because no matter what distance I travel from childhood, I still feel one foot in the poorhouse.

As if I wanted to live in the poorhouse.

It is a philosophy that worked for me in the poorhouse, on the streets of London, and at the orphanage.

My lack of debt placed me farther ahead of my peers in the race to wealth and allowed me to move across the country to New York, where I expected to join my friends in the poorhouse.