Thursday, 26 July 2012


For Jobi and Bonds

I probably don't smell too good today,
In last night's crumpled clothing, stumbling, wan
And pale – as pallid as this broken dawn –
Back to my house (if I can find the way).
With clean-cut cheeks and tailored suit of grey,
The Businessman strides past – he’s clearly on
His way to work. Eyes meet, and then he’s gone,
To meetings, desks, and chasing higher pay.
The disapproval on his face is clear:
He’s got a job, responsibility!
He got no time for mates and drinking beer –
He’d never throw away his life like me.
            I drift to bed on joys he’s never tasted,
            And smile to think that it’s my life that’s wasted.

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