Posted in Poetry

Misery Of Living

On a first
name basis
at my
hometown
pharmacy

Solace
is an
orange
bottle
that says
I still have
five refills
remaining

The same
faceless
people
accompany
me on the
trolley

I’ve witnessed
the benefits
of Christianity
at the
Light Of Life
but God is
still a stranger

All alone
amongst
the crowd
people carry on
like it makes
a difference

I failed
at the
wrong place
at the
right time

Travelled
every zip code
to find what
I was after

She was right
next door
to stitch
my wounds
of misery
I needed shelter
from the cold
streets of Dormont

I feel at one
when I’m in
her presence

In a way
I’ve conquered
the misery
of living

© Michael Marrotti

This poem is from my chapbook F.D.A. Approved Poetry, available here:https://www.amazon.com/F-D-Approved-Poetry-Michael-Marrotti/dp/153907577X