Of broken rib and truck rocking my crib.

The world seems empty as of late,

Will this always my fate?

Broken heart and rib,

Trucks rocking my crib,

Love and friends taken by their master,

Cars scream by even faster,

With emptiness, rest I should gain,

But there is too much pain,

Being punished by elders,

Box and parents,

Economies crash,

No flow of cash,

Want to work or play,

But, I am broke to my dismay.

I know this is transient.

Ribs heal,

Groundings repeal,

The rain will stop,

Customers again shop,

Hiring freezes lift,

And work will be a gift.

The sun will shine,

I won’t shrivel on the vine,

Logic tells me this,

But but heart is still amiss.