Spiralling Down
No job, no money, no home
Family long gone, nothing to live for
Booze, drugs, no more hope
Living out of a shopping cart
Sleeping in doorways in the rain
guarding what little he has
Spiralling down until there is no more
Waiting for an end that never comes
© Ceol
September 22nd, 2009 at 1:08 pm
The title of this poem and the poem itself tell what happens everyday to many trapped in a destructive way of life.
coastpoet