Fork
A lonely fork sits at my feet Cast aside through some careless decision of mine Lying dormant and inactive It reminds me of the man at McDonalds Who gives you your change Not the teenager, but the old fellow With the tired eyes, clinging to his last connections To the life he once had Does he have a family now? Do his friends know if he's quite alright? Or does he slip out of the shallow existance Brought by the silly striped uniform? I slide the fork back to its dark, dark drawer And close it without another thought Written March 4th, 2002 © on Mar 04 2002 01:59 PM PST 0 • 10
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"A lonely fork sits at my feet..."