How green was the valley of my delight.
New opportunity to the left, and to the right.
The world was alive with gluttonous light.
Prosperity was endless and out of sight.
And now that that life has come to an end.
That long slippery slope formed ‘round the bend.
Under water from the start, with no heart, it seems,
The economy cratered and squandered my dreams.
First, a pay cut, and then fewer hours.
And then I was cut, like wrapped fresh flowers.
Struggling to pay Peter by robbing Paul,
I deluded myself about surviving my fall.
First, the car went, and then the house,
Bankruptcy followed this poor church mouse.
Lost my wife and kids in a nasty divorce.
My shoe leather bare, I talked myself horse.
On the street with no place to go,
handouts and retraining leading to slow.
Death of my dreams and death of my soul.
Where are you, God, that I have stooped so low?
If there is a moral to this little lie ,
There but for fortune, go you or I.*