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About This Poem
Coping
He is so tired every night
And his thoughts not right
Working every single day
He would like to walk away
Holding down three jobs
His wife can hear his sobs
He has given up all his hope
Reached the end of his rope
He knows he has four kids to feed
Pretty soon he is doing weed
It takes him to another place
Where no problems does he face
He sits relaxing in the chair
And lets the weed take him there
Just a few hours every night
Oh he knows its not right
But he has given up that fight
Maybe one day he'll see the light
In his chair he falls asleep
In their bed his wife will weep
carolann crowley 11/21/2011
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