Un(en)titled

Chapters and pages turn
for each scribe
of new stories
to elevate the hopeless
stuck in a high rise
Trying to raise
flat spirits
trapped in the elevator
Where the up aboves
Can’t hear their high pitch
In the field of dreams
Beneath the seeds of disappointment
Missed appointments
At the Job Centre
Universally discrediting their struggle
To make ends meet
Beyond the soggy veg
On a plate sat at the edge
of the table
Upon which the red letter days
Stays for days on end
No hot air balloon to
Take them away
A stray knock on the door
From the bailiff
To collect the little they have
Under order of the court
So fraught, so out of order
That the bed they bought on
Credit for the daughter
Has been blacklisted
When do the poor and forgotten
Lay their head to rest?
To arrest their troubles and fears
To lock away for another day
Waiting of that day to come
Where the Father
finds them
holds them
and whispers reasssuring
that
“It’s all right little one”.

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