Depressed Poem by Randy McClave

He wants my money so that he can pay his bills
So, I will put off on buying my pills,
I now can't even afford to have a stroke
Now I am just poor, and also broke.
He has taken my every nickel and dime
So, in his life he can have a good time,
Now I stay so sad and also bereft
I don't have anything left.
He always says that he will pay me back
But, a substance to that promise he does lack,
Because of him my credit cards are all gone
He doesn't care, as he smiles with a yawn.
My house I once owned it both free and clear
From years or hard-work and blood and a tear,
I hate to sound judgmental and also mean
But, because of him, my house now has a lean.
He just calls me when he needs money to borrow
He ignores my calls when I am in sorrow,
And when to God for help I plead in a prayer
He just listens, but he doesn't care.
I know that I will be buried one day in a pauper's grave
To him I will be remembered as his financial slave,
I am just so sad and broken and always depressed
Every morning that I awake, I don't want to get dressed.

Randy L. McClave