Walter C. Edwards

Turning my head as I leave the long line again,
a blockade surrounds us all around,
no bread, no milk, no eggs,
long gas lines, wits on the end,
time to take a long walk into no where,
boarder lines of disrepair,
I go on but for not to much longer,
time to just lay me down,
then to be never again,
Rationing life to despair.