can’t be arsed

To the middle aged woman in Tescos

The one with the blotchy face

The one who got disqualified

For giving up on running The Race

 

Your self-checkout till wasn’t scanning

The food you earned to feed selfish kids

And your eyes became leaden with a familiar abandonment

And sunk deep beneath your lids

 

But my eyes were enthused with affirmation

Cos in a race that only ends with death

It makes sense to just stop running

Stand still and catch your breath

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