Survival of the Fittest

Survival of the Fittest

Cold rain beats a sad tune upon her back

Crinkly noise below the plastic sheet.

Tartan bag shredded and torn

On the streets. Please take me back.

Leave the house for the 7.58 on the track

Standing upright behind the yellow line.

The train snakes in. He doesn’t move.

Nowhere to go. Please take me back.

He had a good job. He got the sack

And now everyday he acts out a past

With briefcase and shiny laptop.

The family won’t guess. Please take me back

She was a successful student until the crack

And the boys pressured her to perform,

Then the one she thought loved her

Pushed her away. Please take me back.

The cold rain quickens on the makeshift mac

Shoes squelch as she trudges the streets.

One indiscretion he could never forgive,

Homeless mum. Please take me back.

So many people, only the fit survive.

Push your elbows out and fight to the front

For those in the queue may never arrive.

But then, maybe take a minute and confront

You only get one chance, avoid the backtrack.

Tell those that you love that they are forgiven

And help the weak and those who stumble

Before it’s too late. Because you can’t go back.

The fittest may survive they say

But then remember this.

Tomorrow is another day

And you may receive misfortune’s kiss.

By Linda Prince