I’ve struggled hard to have the nothing that I have right now;
pushed past my limits, taken bullets to the chest. Somehow
I’m still breathing on my own; can’t take it easy now,
because as soon as I let up, straight down I’ll start to plow.
Often, I binge on wind and water to adjust my fate;
trick my body and my mind to think it’s not too late;
go hungry evening after evening, but my kids, they ate;
tuck them in, then eat the leftovers right off of their plate.
Someone called me lucky once, something about I’m still young;
to just “hold on”, that I’d “pull through if I would just keep strong.”
Rolled off his lips like he was singing lyrics from a song.
He’d never seen a struggle, didn’t know that broke lasts long.
Working after hour after hour, less than minimum wage;
check-to-check living, trapped in a social economical cage;
stifled rants and petty names brewing a terrible rage
spawned anxious habits, made it difficult for me to engage;
but I stayed silent, lost my voice to let the bigger ups win.
I trail a path where high hopes flare and then depress me again.
I still won’t quit, despite the battle, I’ll give my hundred and ten.
When empty handed, I’ll complain about it all with my pen.