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Poem

Pushing forward is becoming a chore, so much effort there is nothing left to store.
Giving all of me to make a life, how much of me will be left for my son or my wife?
I work to bring home a living to give it away, my hands are so worn how can I pray.
We pray in our time and god answers in his, but I've waited so long I forgot who He is.
There is no more luck and time is running out, but keep going Ryan there's not time to pout. 
My job has been taken my livelihood gone, some how and way I keep moving on.
How will my son see my if I fail, the boat's sinking now who will help bail?
Will some good ever knock on my door, or am I to lose forever more?
What happened to the American dream? Now it's a nightmare and I'm unable to scream.
Someone please wake me from this before too long, and remember my struggle in story and song.
I will be reborn in every generation, surrounded with hard times and overwhelmed with
frustration .
Being a man too hardened to cry, my only outlet is to always too try.

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