The Cardboard Box
Bent and broken, she stumbles along
Looking for a place to sleep
Tired and lonely, her family now gone
She has no tears left to weep
Eighty years old, she's seen it all
A woman who fell thru the cracks
She keeps marching on, refusing to fall
Not caring for the things that she lacks
Another victim of circumstance
She keeps looking for something to eat
She looks thru trash, to find her next meal
A task, she's cursed to repeat
Fifteen years it's been this way
She no longer knows the meaning of shame
Once, she owned a home and her dreams
But now, the recession has came
She keeps moving on, from place to place
Doing what she can to get by
Her home is now, a cardboard box
The place where she'll probably die
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