My Real Self Laughs
so much was wasted
Swathes of young men
who turned and flashed in the sun
like silver fish
as I swam with them.
Then hollow eyed metal men
arrayed between rows of dark stamping machines
shadowy factories
no sunshine there
in all the years
She was a good mother
pretty too
consumed almost completely
by greedy children
- little left to spare
by nightfall.
My real self laughs
My real self
sits back in the shadows
where he has ever been
smiling
chuckling
at my damn fool life.
He knows I cant do anything about it now.
by John Hayes