I used to take for granted
My expensive car and my modern home
My wife and children
And a job I could not stand.
Well, the job went first and fast
Even though I had been there fifteen years
I could not (under penalty) return to the building
And being a sensitive soul
I wondered what had got me terminated?
We take for granted the comfort of ease
While we are working, and in the eyes of friends,
Not doing something
Means I had become an outsider
I hate holding my cup out for change
I used to make good money
But all my materialistic goods have evaporated
I bed down in an underpass
With a backpack and blanket
That I was lucky to own
At night with the dark terrors
Of other occupants
The stink of urine and faeces
The cologne of my ambition
As I warm up, with tension easing
Not for long as the cops arrive
And kick my belongings in the dark
I weep as I gather my sparce bags
Thinking of another shelter
And being warm
And of a wife and friends who have forgotten me.
willow moon pearce
http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/falling-forward/
