Queuing in a dollar craze

February 18, 2020

 

 

I am tired
I am afraid
I don’t know what will happen.
After today
Wake up, make up
I’m thinking “seize the day”.
But the news is wretched
The office is empty
And it’s only Monday.
I am scared
I am derailed
What part of the day
remains to seize, anyway?
What part of this dream
will live to tell
but a somber tale?
What part of this mess
Can I salvage, if we fail?
What part of this plan
Is but boxes and tape?
What crossroad on this path
Isn’t a queue in a dollar craze?
I wonder
when they gather
For the last Payday
Will we be numbers
Or names to castaway?
Word on the street
It isn’t going away.
“it’s only getting worse”,
they chatter in dismay.
Our world has bent its back
To parasites
and economic disarray.
Should I leave
Where does one go
On a very long holiday?
Alas,
My one guiding voice was silenced
By birds that turned him prey.
Our escape
Paints the skyline
A perfect purple and gray.
And I’m looking up
But wish
We could stay.

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