claws and boxes

Office ended today with some lashing
caused by sharp claws of ego
from a mouth whose mistakes
is something she cannot chew.
My burdened back carried
the weight of her spitted words,
as I drag my tired feet out
as if it was the end of the world.

After dinner, I went to buy water
and saw a man in dirty clothes,
gingerly counting his precious cents
to buy a ringgit of popsicle twirl.
Before leaving he asked
for a carton, discarded.
After getting the approval, he left,
with sweet cream ‘tween his gapped-teeth
without a single penny on his pocket,
but with jolly spring on his feet.

Perhaps the heaviness of life
is based on perspectives.

©2019 Rosemawrites@A Reading Writer. All Rights Reserved.
Photo by Peter Hershey on Unsplash

14 thoughts on “claws and boxes”

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