A sack filled full, with the weight of many.

Back bent crooked with a head hung low.

Feet blistered from a journey of countless years.

Hands clenched tight yet with nothing to show.


Chest heaved laboured,

each inhaled breath - heavier than the last.

Eyes had stung forever,

bearing salt from errors past.

I swim amongst the many.

Churned amidst the chaos.

Blended in the crowd of Serifs,
Calibris and New Romans.
Strong-armed by the bold.
Submerged beneath the underlined.

But I will stand out...

If only you’d
keep me italicised.

I will remember
the song that my heart
played percussions to.

I will sing the words,
with no one else,
to a song made for two.