Cardboard Houses

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 through 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 through 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 she has the recession to blame

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

She sits all alone with all that she owns

Underneath a broken street light

She lays herself down in her cardboard home

And passes away in the night

Reviews

[Robbie~xoxo~]

"Eighty years old, she's seen it all

A woman who fell through the cracks

She keeps marching on refusing to fall

Not caring for the things that she lacks"~ I often wondered how it is that people get to a point in their lives where they fall through the cracks... this is a heartbreaking piece. Well penned!

[Whiskurz]

Thanks Robbie.....Whisk

[Robbie~xoxo~]

You're welcome. :)