Trying times
 

Trying times and troubles in a lonely wilderness,

A letter left unopened with a scribbled out address,

She pretends she never got it, she pretends she

Wasn’t home, popped it in the postbox with a note

To say ‘Not known.’
 

Trying times and troubles in a house with just one light,

Will she earn enough to eat this week, will the boiler

Work tonight? Buried under blankets, fully dressed in

Boots and jeans, she keeps warm any way she can,

Hot soup, rye bread and beans.
 

Disaster struck next morning when the Heavies came

To call, they’d written several times they said, no reply

Received at all. The seller needs their money, they

Too are short of cash, so the heater that you bought

Last month, we’ll have to take it back.
 

They took the little that she had to cover costs incurred,

Left behind her broken couch of very little worth,

The front door slammed, the echo rang, her cry for help

Denied, hot soup rushed home from Macs tonight, no

End to trying times.
 

© Joseph G Dawson