Second Poem of the year (Draft)

Food Stamps

In mother form I enter the government building;

shame and dread nestled in my forehead wrinkles.

I do not mingle with the other weary souls

similarly equipped with resignation and desperate pride.

When my name is mispronounced into the

vast brown and orange room,

I half-smile, half bare my teeth as I'm lead

into a maze of half walls.

Upon providing required personal details, I flush

and exit quickly through the room of waiting families.

We do not meet eyes though we are hopeful,

strong and undefeated.

********

draft. wondering if third person would be better......

Comments

[Tom Sanchez Prunier]

Third person might be better, but you won't know if you try. Good subject - a sign of the times. Drop two lines and you have a sonnet. Just sayin'.

Nice exploration. See where it takes you.