He simply can’t make
Ends meet a salary is not
Enough to feed a family pay the bills
Prays the landlord keeps his calm
A little patience in a bucket of goodwill.

He awakes at dawn
Each day to catch the train
Commutes two hours to the bar
Greets me with a smile as I enter
Pours my coffee by eight.

Black trousers a white shirt
Worn-out gym shoes he wears
A mask to camouflage his distress
For a bouncing check an expired
Passport a lost watch

Now he can’t even show his face
At the bank where he was hoping to get
A little credit to escape
Take the family north where the sun
Is tepid yet chances flow to warm

A home and he might spend
More time with his kids play
Reposing the mask in a drawer
Never to wear it again, though
For the time being as he fidgets he pours

Me a second cup coffee to go.

[Featured painting: A New Day by Faye Vander Veer]