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Red Apr 2021
The old man turned back to give one last smile
And he raised his mug in a greeting stopping in the aisle
And I remember the days when I first met him
Learning to have that yellow cup filled to the lid

He throws back the last “sweetheart” he will probably ever call me
And I tell him to “drive safe”, “be careful”, and a sad “see you maybe”
The way his eyes lit up when I told him that I was finally
Moving onto bigger and better things

Three years, three jobs, two cities, two names
And every ‘by chance’ meeting punctuated with a wave
And the old man says he knows “ill be great”
And I smile bitterly as we go our separate ways

Roger, you give me hope.
In our small interactions
That things will be ok
Because even when things change
Some people always stay the same

Coffee.
eight cream, no sugar
Hi sweetheart, it's been a while
i miss him and this only happened last night, thank you roger for being the only man who doesnt make sweetheart creepy, youre my favorite.
Lyda M Sourne Oct 2020
I sit here by my bedroom wall
my back on stone, cold concrete

I stare at a future as bleak as the white wallpaper
peeling off the edge

Why is my worth
based off of a single sentence
the only referral to what I can or cannot do

I have plenty to offer
beyond the lines of A4 paper

And yet society scan these things
with cold eyes and cold minds
drawing a line to what I can or cannot do

And in the end,
I conform to those lines
tucking away the other sides of me

Feeling as though I have nothing to offer
for I do not fit within the boundaries
of those lines
as a fresh graduate, it's hard finding a job because everything is so specific, I can't possibly fit those standards
****.
I'm locked in again
Not paralysed but stuck.
Not sure what to do.
Each task appears barbed
Like it will pierce my heart.
I could make a piece of jewellery
Write my story
Make an animation
Or tidy up?
Any would do...
But instead I sit here
Not sure how to proceed.
It's like the other things that I woudn't do
Stop me doing any of the other things that I could do.
D-E-C-I-D-E from the latin
"Decidere"
To cut off!
To seperate!

Okay, jewellery it is,
I will check the van...
Poetic T May 2020
An immigrant took our
                                    jobs.
        
                   I never saw it..  
  But It gave me a cough..
Regina May 2020
mortgage was half paid
punched the clock
global virus roared
Julie Grenness May 2020
When do we knock off?
Home offices, not for toffs,
I stagger to the desktop,
Yikes, another job!
Guess it won't take me long,
******* my phone, my new song,
We can afford gas for cars vehicular,
But not allowed anywhere particular,
So, we work in the home office,
Jobs designed for masochists!
Feedback welcome.
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