He awakens before the sun,strangely hopeful,
In a stark room with so many others like Him,
Down on their luck, no place else to go.
She is the first thing on his mind,
As he trudges bravely along,
The cold rain clinging to him,
Like tendrils on a vine.
Just a chance is All I ask,
See, me and my Lady want to start a new
Life,
Promises are made with downcast eyes..
And so he goes back to call her,
Before he turns in for the night,
Praying that tomorrow will be the day.
He lies down,in a room filled with
Strangers,
A wafer thin mattress and no pillow for his
Head,
His last thoughts are of her.
Maybe tomorrow.