Dangling from life's strings, feeling tired of daily
grinds, hoping for an escape to recharge me for a while.
Searching nooks and crannies to hide in, forging new
avenues of recuperation from this long and tiring world
of utter confusion and sub-standard economy we're going
through.
Living on edges of poverty all of life with no hope in
sight of ever overcoming it now.
Silent recriminations bolster thoughts of suicide, yet
the tightrope I'm walking helps concentrate one moment
at a time as I slowly walk across it, holding onto
particles of life-sustaining feelings from grandchildren
and children.
(10: 04 a.m. - 10/20/08)
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Hang in there. There's no shame in being broke in the USA. The American Dream was always a lie.