There are certain things in life you
overlook
There are certain people you
ignore
There are certain "hello's" you
reserve
Today, I became a
victim
Today, I fell into a
snare
Yet, today, I was a
perpetrator
Fast food, standing in file,
a laborer
Browsing the menu,
a mother and child
Hands buried in pockets too shallow,
myself
Exhausted,
he orders
Frustrated,
she orders
Pensive,
i order
As indefatigable as his hard hat
he leaves with a stare
As derelict as her tattered sundress,
she exits, stern
As diffident as my neutral skin tones,
i remained
Listening to the buzzing timers in the
background
Soaking in the sights and sounds of fast food
heaven
Pondering the limits by which we embrace
silence.