How strange
Watching how a man can fall
Laying in dust
Losing it all.
Broken and battered
With nothing to show
Except the shoes on his feet
And the debts that he owes.
With a curious nod,
He wipes himself down
Risen to his feet
And looking around..
Surveying the land
Where he now resides.
A ramshackle landscape
With no sense of pride.
Upon his ashen face
Something strange erupts..
His lips curling upwards
Despite all that's corrupt.
He gathers composure
And scrambles across
Small piles of glass
And heaps of old rust.
With little to no sign
Of downtrodden hopes
He begins to rebuild
With no sense of the scope
Of damage thats done
Or how high he must climb
His only concern
Is a matter of time.
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