On Being a Number

You told me not to worry
about it.

Put it out of your mind

I cannot decide if
you are blessed or cursed.

Do you not see
these monsters,
in their ivory tower?

Peering down,
swollen and pale.
Leering and muttering,
chuckling to themselves.

Slurping their finest wines,
gorging themselves
on the richest of foods.

Their enormous houses
six car garage,
chauffeur and PA.

They are laughing at you.
Can’t you see?

They look without seeing,
listen without hearing,
talk without speaking.

A faceless message.
Meaningless words.
‘Celebrate good times, come on’

Are you not incensed
by their indifference?

Anger burns behind my eyes,
my face, hot with rage,
my brain swelling with fury.

The injustice of it all!

How can you watch your people leave?

6 sleeps to Christmas.
A wife at home,
children to feed,
a family to keep.

You didn’t watch them leave,
of course.
You are far away by now.
Perhaps you rest on your luxury yacht.
A welcome break after
a difficult few months?

Treat yourself, you deserve it.

You send your email
An update on the collective consultation.
Don’t worry, it’s just business.

I could shake you.
Tell you of this pain you cause.
But you won’t see me,
I am too small.
You can’t hear me,
my voice is too quiet.

I am a worker bee,
an ant, a termite in your mighty tower.

A number, and a nobody.
Just like all the rest.

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5 Comments

  1. I’m SO happy you’ve written something so pure and angry and honest and complete! Yes, you are almost there and I’ve watched it from the start and while I know imthe emotions hurt and there’s great tribulation, it is a beautiful thing to see you unfold

    Liked by 1 person

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