Free Verse Fevour
I see you every morning
skipping on your way to work,
a mundane task for anyone
but not you, it being your release
from your world of simplicity
and retardation.
I’ve often wondered what
goes through your mind, as
you search for the faces that
fit the scurrying movements
of your work mates, as they
dart about like misty forms
before your fragile eyes, your
unenviable task of groping for
your blue dot, it being the
prominent feature on your
clock card. It is easy to feel pity
for you, but not I, it is envy of
your simple ways, in this, an ever
increasing pressurised world,
because you’re always the same,
no matter what equations these
precarious days throw at us all.
Mathew, your gift is unique,
If one only had the time to ponder.
© Harry J Horsman 2020
Copyright © Harry Horsman | Year Posted 2020
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