you killed your dreams
and imposed a new
reality consisting of
fifty hour work weeks
nioghts of mediocre
sitcoms, trips to
WalMart, and the
occasional bottle
a littlw money in
your pocket and a
Mastercard with a
three hundred dollar
credit limit
soon a wife
then a child
maybe a mortgage
all of a sudden
there's a weight
on your shoulder
dragging you down
this is where you
find Jesus or
Jack Daniels
some sort of savior
to alter reality
and alleviate
the hopelessness
the outrage of
having your dreams
aborted in bloody
fragments night
after night after
night
