"When all goes Weary"
When all goes black,
A new closing starts, at the old shack.
The dreams crash,
People dig through the ripened trash.
Money doesn't grow on trees, you know.
Our minds, are so odd, so slow.
Dreams thrash and soar,
Through the open door.
Your days have come to a quick end,
My dear, dear lonely friend.
Thanks, a lot for reading this. I made that up just now, in around 1 minutes' tops. Poetry means a lot to me. This one relates to the harsh economy. Including my one friend, who was forced to go without food, and later found she had a disease, known as cancer, without her eating any food, she later died. Quickly.
R.I.P CeaCea
God love you, forever, friends till the very end of life.
Hope you enjoyed it, please comment.