Swells of golden image hill.
Credit card heaven-more refills.
The bricks cascaded down.
From my head, removing the crown.
My castle is now a plastic tent.
Though, no landlord demanding rent.
A shop cart, my four wheel ride.
Half full empty, memos and besides.
Seems like many, befalling this fate.
Sad wonders, economic blunders, late.
Shop cart herd, walking the streets.
Hunger abounding, an acrobats feats.
Woeful times, clouds of thunder.
My plastic tent, midnight prayers wonder.
7/23/2009 POEWHIT
JESUS SAVES
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
A sign of the times unfortunately Joe. You have described the plight so very well so good on you for doing it so well. 10 Karin Anderson