THE LATE SHIFT
(by Samuel Farrugia)
Empty lobby,
cold bench
Grasping
after fading memories…
Smelling of
cigarettes, urine
Loneliness
sits, a suit jacket complimenting the customary pyjamas
Talks of the
day, talks of aches and pains, talks of God
A smile,
firm handshake, good-nights all around
It’s time to
take his pills
All it takes
is fifteen minutes
And a
listening ear
to solve
this world’s ills.
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