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Falling downward

Down The Stairs

By Carolyn Donnell

California is beautiful they shout.

But you’re always outside looking in.

Or if you think about the hole where you live

It’s from the inside looking out.

You can’t own the land or even the room.

A few short years I’ve fallen down

From upper yuppie to trailer park,

down the stairs in one felled swoon.

Oops!  Can’t afford a trailer home.

What’s next now? Old folks home or the street?

I don’t know how I’m going to live.

Shopping cart here I come.

6 Responses

  1. You’re scaring me.

  2. Maybe something through the web. Know someone who sells items she picks up on discount at a price through e-bay. She goes through the dealers unloading stuff, I think. Just an idea. But something like this…… Anyway, (if you don’t believe in prayer) I’ll be thinking good thought for you. All the best.

    • If prayer worked, I would have a lot going for me. I have people “praying” on three continents. Just seems to get worse if anything at all. Do whatever you want.

  3. I wrote this poem several years ago. It was kind of a joke then. Tisn’t now. I won’t end up on the street, my son has a closet room, other family would take me if worse came to worse, I just want to be independent and California seems determined to take that away – from lots of people, not just me.

  4. What about being a live-in governess or home-companion to the elderly?

  5. I am the elderly. :-\ At least our society seems to think so. Won’t hire any of use any more. Hie thee to an old folks home. If you can get in.

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