The day has finally come,

Eviction notices to some,

I’d like to just drive away,

But the old girl doesn’t run,

Living in my car the only way…

I sit here in a shock -induced fog,

My mind right now sinking in a bog,

I see no light at the end of the tunnel,

I feel as if I am flowing down into a funnel,

What lies below, I know not, through it I will have to slog…

It is afterall my own fault,

So anything that happens is as well,

I’m sorry if this poem seems quite black,

But sometimes I wonder why, two years ago,

I ever fought to live & come back…

Hell, I didn’t even make my birthday,

Just a week & a few days away,

I found this job when others could not,

And I have diligently worked it,

Not taking one day off, even when I was sick,

I’ve fought for life & this is what I get,

To live on the street, to be one of those people,

That “normal” people do walk past and forget,

But just for now, I am not there yet…

“Dearest God, help me in my bad time,

I have not been much of a religious person,

And to be honest with you, God, I doubt that will change,

I will still be the son of a bitch I have always been,

But deep inside, where no one can see,

I will surely love you & thank you for your help…”