Friday, January 14, 2011

Evening Star

The headlines are there in black and white,
On the billboard, by the kiosk,
Death, doubt and widespread despair.
Less jobs, no hope, car crash, house fire,
And more and more and more, all there
In black and white, whilst he just stands
And calls “Evening Star” to the passing world.
Now and then someone stops and buys
A newspaper from him, avoiding his eyes,
Not looking at him whilst fumbling with the change.
He is not a person to them, to anyone, except
Sometimes to himself. No, not a person,
Just an extension of the black and white
Of gloom, doom and despair.
For forty years he has stood each day,
Six days a week, but not Christmas Day,
And sold the paper to those who want to read
The headlines of doubts, dark days and 
Widespread despair.
And at the end of the day he wanders home alone,
And sits before a single bar of electric fire
Watches the news on the television, with
The headlines of death, doom and
Widespread despair. And later,
Walks slowly up the stairs to his lonely, cold bed.
And dreams dream after dream of
Death, doom, doubt, and dark despair.
(c) 2ndwitch (14/01/11)


Blogger Fee said...

Hi Carole,

popped in from the A363 forum after today's thread.

I really like this poem, the rhythm is terrific and it builds to a great ending - and you are much braver than me to post your work up for the world to see.


5:19 pm  

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