He

He sits at his computer,
Tears streaming from his face,
A broken man,
Typing his heart out,
Into an empty place.

The cards this life has dealt him,
All jokers it does seem,
With the deck stacked high against him,
This man continues losing.

Yet he keeps on playing,
All he needs is one good hand,
To help him get out from this rut,
If he can't than he'll be damned.

So he sits at his computer,
This man who's all alone,
Writing poems to his lovely wife,
Wishing that he were home.