Is life worth living
When all you do is give,
Pouring out your soul
Into an unrelenting hole?

Each sacrifice exacts its toll,
Consuming any self-control,
They take without any remorse,
Draining your spirit's inner source.

In corporate rooms of cold design,
Where profit trumps the human line,
You stand amongst the beaten downs,
With silent ones who wear their frowns.

Your body bends, your mind breaks,
Yet blame becomes the final stake.
Pointing fingers, casting shame
As struggles grow and you're to blame.

So tell me now, amid this strife:
Are you truly blessed in this life?
Or just a cog within the wheel,
Where giving is the only deal?

©️Lizzie Bevis

You watch his tired eyes and matted hair
A paper coffee cup, an unfinished poem
He is inside the trappings of a panoply
Twitching a calloused finger towards discomposure
Watching as what is not there makes itself ever more present
Staring as moth wings of yearning marry the air
Letters scarce and doubt plentiful
Despondence is the new norm
The next day his seat is empty
A stranger takes his place
You watch her tired eyes and matted hair