They went to the Bank of Hope,

It were closed,

There'd been a run, it were broken,

So they went back home,

Only to find the bank had repossessed 'em,

The notice nailed to the front door,

Went on to the streets, all the shop fronts,

Were occupied,

The streets full of those, now without hope,

Now they search for what little hope may remain,

Out there

The Dyslexic Poet

Ken D Williams