Toot

Destitute.

Living like a modern day prostitute. 

Going crazy in this mental institut-ion

of bills to pay. $9 an hour isn’t living wage. It’s living with the rage of a world that only costs more as I age.

I’ve given up the dreams of picket fences and love.

My dreams now consist of keeping my head well above

Water, debt and the weight of my depression

Attempting to appear happy in my state of recession

Weakness and defeat are not the impression

I want to rely on when the days seem too long

It’s all goin wrong

Or I’m simply just not feeling all that strong

Instead I sit back, reflect on my day

Guess I can call it a win

Pat my back, toot my horn

Prepare to whore myself again.