Family Torture

by

Mark Ian Martin

Walking around the lonely streets
No one else about
Window shopping on my own
Sometimes cry and shout
Here I am a down and out
Nothing here to eat
Cold and rainy, same old way
Nothing on my feet

Where have all my family gone
Never want to know
Except for times, when moneys there
And their faces they would show
Now my livings drained away
There's nothing left to spend
Not a letter or a smile
Do they ever give or send

But one day my luck will change
Never a worry will I tell
For I will make it to the top
They all can go to hell
Piece of mind, Tranquility
Is all one needs in life
Not the money, or the greed
Or depression, or the strife

NEXT?
Why don't you look at Untitled 25
by: Kaylea Lynne Patterson
from: Pittsfield, MA, US

To visit all of Mark Ian Martin's poems, click HERE

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