literature

Lucid and Lonely

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Literature Text

This old woman,
Lucid and lonely,
She doesn't know why she's here.

And this old man,
Angry and crying,
Knows exactly why he's here.

It's these cruel ironies that come to me
In between long shifts and puffs of smoke
Where I just can't help but laugh at the chaos.

How some people were born to millionaires
And get to crash seven cars before they pay for one
And somehow I can't seem to shake this area,
The poverty, the fines to the state.
Everything here is designed to pull you back in.

If only I could take that leap, I once said.
But the spaces drift further apart.
And I'm left here staring.

Now the world is getting dimmer,
You were once a beacon from the left coast
But now you're the darkest of all.

I'm left sitting here with the lonely old woman
And the cranky old man, both singing songs into my ear.
And I'm left wondering what could've, should've been.

But the day is not over yet,
And as long as I have a pulse,
I can turn it all around.

So I whisper into the night air
"Give me strength,
Give me the strength to run far away.
Give me the strength to follow through.
Give me the strength to break a few hearts,
including my own."

And the words slip out slowly, and float upward,
Up-and-up-and-up high into the stratosphere,
Where they catch on to the tail of a shooting star.
The star will, hopefully, carry them far,
Into wherever it is Heaven is located.

And hopefully, God is current on his paperwork,
Or at least not that far behind.
Hopefully, he'll get to my request after lunch.
Maybe, he'll grant it.

But until then, I go back inside.
Because the lonely woman and the angry man,
Despite their lack of understanding or acceptance,
Both know for certain that they depend on me.

And while things like dreams and wishes are wonderful,
Life has taught me not to bet on them.
It's nothing but hard work that can save me now.
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