OUT OF ORDER
Out of job, out of hope,
nothing left to me but God.
In a world where all around us is money,
i am like a bee with no honey.
Out of order,with no order.
Life grows me to be older
and soon there will be no use of me.
Age beats me with such cruelty.
I am in the need for a loan,
but i know they wouldn't give me one.
I am in the need for love,
but i am left penniless and alone.
All i need is a simple job.
I don't think i ask a lot.
But today jobs are like goldˇ
those who have them, those they hold.
I do not even have the basics.
Food, rent, clothes,only bills.
I must finally accept and face this:
i am a useless human of wills.
Poetry by AFRODITE STATHI
Read 33 times
Written on 2020-06-29 at 07:21
Save as a bookmark (requires login)
Write a comment (requires login)
Send as email