Four cents on the dollar

Haggard and worn,
was your heart ripped out
or merely torn,
dude, did you wish that
you’d never been,
but were born?

Tanks on the streets
(they’re coming)
food banks,
and who’s running them?

We’ll kneel and say a prayer
thankful to a God
that we’re not quite
there,

and there is just around the corner
hiding in the shadows
because that’s what monsters do
to scare you.

Coming up on the outside
because pride keeps us out
from the inside
more monsters that hide than
the monsters we know
and now we know.

© 2019, John Smallshaw.