The Abstract Line By V. Stoakley You’re just hoping And you’re moping You’re just hoping for a dime. And your onward view is choking All you see’s end of the line. You’ve forgotten all ‘bout coping All you sings a tragic rhyme. And the time is quickly going You missed the chime, it’s half past nine. All the money’s quickly molding All the food it taste like wine. And the leaders simply goading One another across the line. The banks are quickly folding Hoping to get to give a dime. And the world is done with doping It turns out it is a crime. All the world is closely watching For us to say that things are fine. But indeed the times are tragic And you can’t escape the abstract line. © 2009 V. Stoakley
a poem/song about the recession and life.