The Mirror

t's too hot

To sleep

Yet we long

For these days

Of discomfort 

When all we want 

Is to wallow and bask

To sit in the sun

Let the day 

Drip slowly by

Smile at the sky

Listen to the birds

Watch the busy people

Buzzing about their 

Days

Trapped in their little boxes

Running their little 

Machines 

Sweating out

Their busy-ness

And their business

As though it were

The most important thing

In the world

And usually 

They don't notice me

As I sit on

My park bench

In yesterday's clothes

Wrapped in yesterday's 

Stench 

Drinking from 

My paper bag

And tipping my 

Moth eaten hat 

To the world 

Some days the pitied

Become the envied

And that's the mirror

I carry in my pocket

To bring out

Occasionally

On days

And nights

Just 

Like 

These

◄ The Tap

The Mirage ►

Comments

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Shifa Maqba

Wed 24th Jun 2020 12:03

Thought provoking!

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keith jeffries

Wed 24th Jun 2020 10:46

A very well composed poem with a lot to digest.
Thank you for this
Keith

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