The Bag Lady
Hidden, within her bag, life,
this mother, sister, wife,
walking the pavements
obscured by derision
clutching her bag,
memories of past
pleasures, regrets and successes
wasted by excesses
of drink, chance and risk
life viewed askew,
chosen by some,
obtained by few,
left behind, within the bag
a vision of hope-lost
embodiment of failed dreams
but within the bag...
I neither love them
nor adore them
nor admire them
nor covet them
Yet I acquire them
Lonely nights, the only light,a cursor on a screen.
I toil away, both night and dayon problems never seen
a little node of program code,assessments due by dawn
a coffee shot, dark, rich and hotwill breach the early morn.
from my bed, inside my head,a thousand thoughts are racing
while on the roof with cloven hoof,the deadline trots it's pacing
and at sunrise, it's no surprise,my nighttime sleep is shy.
To work I go, and all I know,bags grow beneath my eye
A busy day, I work away,on projects all unseen
maybe one day, I'll find my way,a step up on the ladder
but all this toil, brings blood to boiland does it really matter
Another day, so here I lay,The learning curve is steep
I really do enjoy the workbut is it worth the sleep?