Home's a Cardboard Box
Weaving, stumbling from one job to another
His roadmap reeks of discontinuity
And that is why his home's a cardboard box
He's squandered each and every opportunity
A fancy lady passerby, mercy in her eyes
Once offered him her hand, if he could just stay sober
But that very winter's night he'd gotten drunk
Next morn the gig was over...
Now's he's living on the street again
Hoping to survive
Another round of ice and snow ~
Odds so long: He's all of twenty-five
Copyright © Gershon Wolf | Year Posted 2021
Post Comments
Poetrysoup is an environment of encouragement and growth so only provide specific positive comments that indicate what you appreciate about the poem. Negative comments will result your account being banned.
Please
Login
to post a comment