Recession

I'm screwed,
Not a clue what too do.
No work in sight,
For months it's been a fight.
What else can I loose?
But my place to sleep.
Eviction.
Quick as it approaches,
Seems like soon;
I'll be sleeping along-side roaches.
Behind a dumpster I shall hide,
With nowhere else too reside.
Digging for cans,
And I once called myself a man?
What is this blasphemy I ask,
Adding yet another task;
For my weakened mind
Cannot escape the past.
Great memories once,
Came day by day.
Now all that lingers,
Is the stench of rot and decay.

Written by: Lucas Alexander