Alive is the energy of a newborn mutt
Running in circles and covered in soot
A black blanket so messy, acquired only through
The curiosity found often inside the world’s new.

Lonely like the woman who stands in her shop
That’s withered from business the place has forgot
She peers out the window and stares for a while
She thinks of better times from when she was a child

Smitten as the boy who spends his last notes
And then sits at the harbour and watches the boats
He gives to his friend the new present he’s bought
He hopes it’s not too obvious – he loves him quite a lot

Lost as the accountant who has lost their position
They sit at their desk and think – what a sick competition
After all this time, they realise that they have been
Sabotaging their colleagues for higher numbers on a screen

Hopeful as the student who’s just come home
She rifles through the post and reaches for her phone
She rips open the letter and her eyes shine with glee
And she keys in the numbers of some students she’ll soon see

Broken as the child who is hit and abused
They cower in fear of some anger lit fuse
They hide beneath the sheets, into a ball they soon curl
As they dream and they smile in their own fiction world

These are the people I see day after day
I see them in myself and I hope they’re okay