I was always a hard-working man--
I had a family, I had a plan;
then economy crashed,
and I felt the backlash
life as I knew it got tossed in the can.
Now I feel like I’m living on borrowed time,
moment-to-moment, on someone else’s dime.
My family wants nothin’ to do with me,
praying the Lord will see this through for me.
All I want for them to see
is the man I know that I can be...
I may be down on my luck
but I’m not looking for a handout,
I’m just lookin’ for
a hand up.
Old “friends” relieved they'd been by-passed,
point and whisper that I was just an ass;
Out job huntin’ every day
till the good jobs seemed to go away--
finally hit rock bottom in the bottom of a glass.
With no one to believe in me, I let my life go down...
then stumbled on this building while wandering through town.
Now I work with other broken men
each one starting all over again.
They feed my body and soul,
give me hope; pull me out of that hole.
No longer feeling down on my luck...
They didn’t just give just a hand out,
they gave me
a hand up.
© Ginny Brannan October 2011
(A work-in-progress that I've been working on since last spring. I thought it fit the theme for "the other" so am posting to share at d'Verse. Not exactly in a true poetry format, but this is how the words came to me, so this is how I wrote it. This was inspired from volunteering at our local Rescue Mission, and working alongside some really wonderful guys who were trying to get their lives together.)