Poems for the miserable

Sometimes we slip through the cracks

We get to a certain age and nobody seems to listen

The CV suggests the right skills but the AI system says nothing.

My life becomes a blinking cursor.

Maybe I should appear more young. Buy those trainers.

Change my clothes. Maybe run a marathon or climb a mountain.

But all to no avail.

You call the charities that are supposed to help.

Some never call back. Some repeat what you do.

Or you just slip through the cracks.

The counsellor says be more this be more that.

You fire of CVs and nothing comes back.

The mind is taken to places it doesn’t want to go to.

There’s medication for that. To help you smile.

While the young interviewer asks the same questions

You’ve been asked all your life.

What skills do you have?

Name a time in your life when you could have.

A time in your life when you should have.

And I reflect. If only this. Maybe that.

But they don’t want to hear it because today

Is sitting outside, and you are yesterday.

What once was. No longer is.

Sometimes we slip through the cracks.

We are nothing but

Our choices

And then we die.

This human life

Is a lie.

Clouds form

Raindrops fall.

The universe expands

And then collides

That light that shines

Is a trillion miles away.

My only redemption is

Ice cream on a sunny day.

That warm smile

That turns to cold

The winter’s day

Those bones so old

That black hole

From which light

Can’t escape.

Ice cream

On a sunny day.

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