I am down on my luck without a chip in hand.
Searching for answers in this shifting sand.
Settling troubles piece by piece,
Yearning for a way out, a moment of peace.

Hanging on pins, feeling the strain,
Sorting through categories, wrestling with pain.
Hope seems to fade, like shadows at dusk,
Gazing at my clock, as time builds rust.

Why must the hole be so deep and wide?
Why does the meter run out, no matter my stride?
Yet still, I cling to the flicker of light,
Holding on tight as I search for what’s right.