Rat Race

(the last two lines are in homage to bukowski)

I love the weekdays
whilst you're all in work.
I can take a light stroll
through empty parks;
I can sit by the sea
unhindered
by crowds
and cries
and empty faces

But on the weekends
I hide away,
whilst you all jostle
for a drink;
for a seat on a train;
for a place in traffic;
in a hurry and so
desperate to squeeze
it
all
in

On your deathbeds
You'll remember
Each day of drudgery
You will curse
The work and the worry
The people you married
The days in the sun
Lost to your payslips
And the money
Left
Behind

There will be a small
Obituary
In the free papers
Next to the ads
For old wedding dresses,
exercise bikes, desks,
and the lonely hearts.
You "worked hard" it will say.
And at your funeral
For a moment
There will be
The most beautiful
Silence.