Some, get to live their lives
as best they can
While others just try to survive
their elongated, death
or, it melodramatically seems
on a cold November evening
with Xmas adds
and huddled figures
smiling about commodities
in their shopping bags, and swiping
at their itinerary notification, burdens.
While you’re watching your bus
just fly past, matchstick packed
full of ghostly – inflamed, faces
and your foggy sigh, is drowned out
by a chorus
of cursing, cackling teeth
all around you.
Knowing, your promise of salvation
awaits in that leftover, takeaway
you hope will taste better, day after…
© L. B. Mek
November 2021