Closing Time

Sitting under twinkling lights
On a deserted street
It’s dark outside
But my legs are bare
Hair undone
Blisters on my soft hands
But my heart is whole

I don’t get paid enough
And some like to say
“You’re better than this”
But sitting here,
In peace
Sipping my local craft beer
Listening to Damien Rice
This is my life
This is my closing time
And I’m worthy of it
Because It
Is worthy of me.

Money isn’t everything.

In fact,
It isn’t much at all.

Categories PoetryTags , , ,

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