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The Man
He sits alone at a table,
A man without a home.
Looking lost and feeling poor
With no place left to roam.
Once he had a house so big
that friends would stop to stay,
He had a job that most would love
Which afforded him life this way.
He had friends with whom he and
his family would gather,
To tell stories, jokes, watch children play, the
things that really mattered.
He loved his life just as it was, and
he wished for nothing more.
A family, a wife, two kids, a job
what could he possibly need for.
Then one day his life had changed
within the blink of his eye,
The money was gone, the home was foreclosed
and the family had said goodbye.
He longed to be the man he was before
the crisis came,
To be the man he was before the economy
made it's claim.
So now he sits alone,
within a single room,
Without much hope,
He is left emotionally filled with gloom.
Looking forward, he has no dreams
A man down in his heart,
Someone given the chance to do it all again,
Who would not know where to start.
He sits alone at a table,
A man without a home.
Looking lost and feeling poor
With no place left to roam.
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