No one ever promised us anything, but we had imagined a life for ourselves, a place to call home. The morning breaks behind the apartment building. Punching out at the end of the work day, a short drive home, meat & potatoes for dinner, & the evening news. Go to bed & start over again. It doesn’t seem like we’re asking for much. I just want to follow in my father’s and my father’s father’s footsteps. Now: no jobs, no idea of home. I just want to go to bed & start over again.