A poem now and then. #2

On seeing old folk shopping

Side by side
lumbering.
A herd of wounded rhino
bent backed stick heavy.
Tottering towards termination.
Taken by Tesco trolley towards checkout.

What becomes of the broken hearted?
Alone.
Companion-less.
Worn on the wheel of life
devoid now of the man or woman
they never truly loved but miss all the same.
An empty basket.
No honey
No money
It’s not funny.
It’s life.

Ian Frederick Harris.

 

CONTACT ME.

 

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