one of

sometime in September

& the sun was still good

sat on a bench in the park

wondering where everything

had gone all wrong

not so much feeling sorry

for myself

as sad rage for being a fuck up

who’d fucked up again

when this vision sat next to me

got out her lunch started eating

saw me looking offered a bite

an apple half a sandwich

I offered my thanks

she said I looked sad

& I told her my blues

she said I’d find someone

as she got ready to leave

& when you’re ready

to start over

its your turn to bring lunch

& I’m such a fuck up

I never made that bench again

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