• Author B. D. West

The Poor Man’s Wallet

     The poor man’s wallet Weathered an worn A painful status to which I was born I work longer hours than most Making the money however, is something I never boast Shoes tattered and torn The poor man’s wallet Empty and forlorn Holes in my jeans Sorrow in my heart You know what I mean? I have more hope than people may think I pray more often than my eyes can blink Most nights I’m too tired to sleep But I still pray the Lord my soul to keep The poor man’s wallet Forever haunting this poor man’s heart

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Author B. D. West all rights reserved