Wednesday, 15 December 2010


Feet shuffle trolleys closer and closer
Beings on stilts move further and further
From the ideals of the omniscient
And so-called trinity magnificent

On the heels of the morosely mundane.
The creator of this must be insane.
Though of course just look into their faces
We are beings with gene imperfections

Just caught up in life's trivialities
Single thoughts and single realities.

Then he looks at the old woman and cane
Grey-haired and eyes darkened by years of pain
He sees his mother in her fallen grace
Wipes a tear from the essence of his face.

Emotion is the meaning of all this.
Devotion is the reason to exist.
His phone beeps in the pocket of his jeans
Did a god mean for us to text unseen

Like strangers easily falling in love?
No one foresaw this, removing his glove
The trembles of his hand just like his heart
As he read the text, smiling from the start.

Beings shuffle trolleys to the cashier
Their faces still morose from standing here
But twice today already his being
Has felt the force of this almighty thing.

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