Time Talks Through Passing Thoughts

Time Talks Through Passing Thoughts
Angela Malzow

There is a decent looking guy
Dressed in ragged clothes.
I think he's hungry but I haven't asked.
I want to though.
Almost two days on the same route as me.
I've seen him eat, I think.
I haven't asked where he's going,
Maybe the next stop is his,
And someone is waiting there.
Someone who will feed him and care for him.
I know better than to get attached.
The people around me belong to a place
Where I clearly never belonged.
I am not sad though, for myself I mean,
Because I am finally going home.
Where someone will feed me.
Where a few select people care for me.
The long ride will be worth it
But I do feel so incredibly tired.
I'm worn from life, saltwater over sand.
What is left of me? Am I ruined?
Having lost my coarse edges?
Hopefully not.
The fine grains of me seem to be all that's left.
The softer parts of me long to slip
Through fingers that appreciate me.
That is my salvation.

There is a good looking guy,
looking a bit worse for the wear.
He might be hungry, starving even,
But I wonder if this life is what he deserves.
A new beginning or a bitter end?