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A run down shack is where my heart lives,

The "inner city" of my mind- With nothing left to give.

Stuck with "What if's?"- And my own thoughts bother me,

Living in my own world- Dealing with emotional poverty.

I've been stripped down to nothing- Bare backed and lost,

I took a chance and risked it all- Losing comes at a cost.

I'm searching for a way out- Trying to get back on my feet,

But all the potential "employers" see the tracks and give up on me.

I get so lonely- When I lock myself away,

I'm in solitary confinement- I can't even see the light of day.

Burned out street lights so all I see is the dark,

I peak out of the window as the pain engulfs my heart.

Is this how it's going to be- Or will I one day know wealth,

I continuously ask these question- 'Cuz this all I've ever felt.

It seems the sun doesn't even shine in this place where I reside,

My home is on the back roads- From which most try to hide.

No one's willing to risk it- So they choose not to bother me,

For the fear of being sucked into my emotional poeverty.







Michael C. Lucas