"It Was Not Supposed To Be Like This"
You wonder if your father thought the same thing
As he - bent-backed - opened the lock to the store
Everyday but Sunday
Regardless you think it
As you shave for the second time this morning
A do-over
All you think you want sometimes
As you stand in the mirror
Watching your hairline's retreat
And in the corner of the glass
A picture of your father
Hangs above your cluttered desk
Your sketchbooks out but unopened
Slowly but surely
Yellowing in the sun
And it's all you can do not to
Smash your watch
Climb back in bed with your wife
And sleep long enough
Not to think about savings
Not to think about loans
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