Bankrupt

A Poem by Edward Tapper

The Wall Street Crash

Bankrupt our pockets are turned inside out

Money is tight and there's no work about

The dole queues abound wherever you look

Butchers are open with no meat on the hook

Our shoes are in tatters and down at the heel

Holes in the soles so the road stones I feel

Cloths on my back that have seen better days

I look over the fields where the sheep used to graze

My plight is so hopeless as I sit on the ground

The trains in the sidings are all outward bound

We sit round this camp fire making our plans

Drowning our sorrows in a couple of cans

The crash on Wall Street brought so many down

Bringing misery and heartbreak to all in this town

I was one of the brokers whose life was to falter

Greed was the driver as we strove at life's alter

What do you do when you've got nothing left?

My head is still spinning and I feel so bereft

I walk past the dance halls I used to frequent

To waltz and to quickstep our money well spent

The town is awakening there's a buzz in the wind

Our stock market has opened was every one blind

Did the "crash" really happen I hear you ask?

There's money to make so let's get on with the task!

© 2017 Edward Tapper

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emipoemi

This is a very solemn and profound poem. I frankly utterly enjoyed this! The imagery is strong, the language flows nicely and every word hits the right beat! The last stanza in away kind of ruins the feel of it, though. Not all poems have to end happy. And with this one ending happy all of a sudden, after so many stanzas of a beautifully painted grey world of suffering, to end on a happy note right out of the blue simply leaves the reader in a weird place. A stanza of hope would do, but not following through with a sudden "everything-is-all-right" note......not after so much power in the devastation mentioned in the prior stanzas. Well done otherwise! Very well done!