At The Till
by Zettel
Posted: Monday, December 10, 2007 Word Count: 102 |
At The Till
The old man’s
dying eyes
stared at me
cut to my soul
at the till
he knew and he knew
I knew too
gasping for breath
each defiant grasp
for life only
lasted two words
and then another
I am dying rattle
clutched my heart
at the till
I tried to put
every ounce
of comfort
I could find
into my tone
not my words
for they would
as they always do
lie
no consolation
no recompense
no relief
no solace
no escape
I met death today
face to face
at the till
and I could not
stop crying
The old man’s
dying eyes
stared at me
cut to my soul
at the till
he knew and he knew
I knew too
gasping for breath
each defiant grasp
for life only
lasted two words
and then another
I am dying rattle
clutched my heart
at the till
I tried to put
every ounce
of comfort
I could find
into my tone
not my words
for they would
as they always do
lie
no consolation
no recompense
no relief
no solace
no escape
I met death today
face to face
at the till
and I could not
stop crying