Monday, November 22, 2010

Survival

I cannot go out
Like I used to
On household chores
Or social visits
Swinging my hands
Taking just my wallet
Hopping from bus to bus
Travelling long distances
Just a coffee or two midway
With the past
A remembered song
And the passing scenes
For company.
Now I need a knapsack
With water, snacks or fruits
To nourish me on the way
The fear of hunger
Shadowing me like a pickpocket.

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