#victim #used #work #money #never #good #enough #tired #frustrated #job #pain #hurt #betrayal

all we ever want

There was a man, with eyes bright as silver

Walking in the sunshine, his head held high.

 

He passed shops and trees, both red and green,

With a tune on his lips and brisk in his stride.

 

Nobody looked twice at him; though he smiled

at each and every being passing his side.

 

All because he was wearing a torn rag

They went past him, their phone in hand.

 

But he continued to walk, the way he always did

Oh boy! Did he bother?

No he never did.

 

There was another man coming that way,

Walking in the sunshine his head held low.

 

He passed trees and shops, both green and red

Never a tune on his lips, or a brisk in his stride.

 

All looked twice at him; though he never smiled

All because he wore a coat and held a pone in hand.

 

He continued to walk, the way he always did

Oh boy! Did he bother?

Yes, he always did.

 

The two men met, the man in rags and the man in coat

Their eyes met and their eyes stayed.

They stopped walking but around the people walked all the same.

 

Never before had the man in coat ever seen such a poor and happy man

And never before had the man in rags ever seen such a rich and unhappy man!

That instant!  They both realized.

 

Money and happiness, they never are the same

One does not get one when one gets the other

 

Happiness is a state of mind and money is the reward:

Reward for the work you do; happy or not.

 

Their eyes shone and gleamed and hands around each other they walked,

The others all around stood in awe, their mouths wide open

For they were seeing all they could ever want.

Money and happiness!

workaholics

workaholic

 

expectation, ambition, reputation, 

differentiation with no explanation

success 

determination, execution, imagination

rejection with no emotion

focused 

attention, addiction, classification

distraction with no distinction

 soulless

Author's Notes/Comments: 

1/14/14

the period ends the poem, but not the story behind it; that continues on

Make her feel beautiful even if she's wearing baggy clothes

And speaking in intervals of I don't know 's

I should've told her that she'd be the victim

Isn't that what all of us are at least one day a year?

Just because I'm an alternate memory now

doesn't mean that you can use me as your oasis of escape

I'm the maid doing housework even though you asked me to give you money

Bring it in so the pot overflows, but you'll still tell me it's not enough

My best isn't good enough

I have to go further than my limits just to satisfy your thirsty quench

I'm dehydrated, but that's okay

You've got what you need

And maybe I'm amazed at the way you fuck me over all the time

Or maybe I'm amazed at the amount of blurred vision happening in the place where eyes are needed but too abundant

If I tell you goodbye, how will you really feel?

Will you remember my crooked face when I'm gone?

Or will my prescence evaporate as quick as I came?

Will I leave no lasting memory?

Will you wonder about the sweat and blood drenching what you claim in documents as your children?

Next time get a nanny if you can't care for what you've assumed is yours

But I am the nanny

And you don't care for me either.