Worried man
There on the edge of the
congregation,
In her peripheral vision
sits he,
Watching with an air of
resignation,
The stage, where, under
the spotlight, stands she.
The congregation gives
polite applause,
Upon completion of a poem
read;
He, sighing, during each
in-between pause,
Mechanically claps and
nods his head.
Her act concluded; she
sits with her friends,
Acknowledging their
appreciation,
As he melancholically
descends
Into a mood of dark
contemplation;
He
can’t relate to any of this shit;
He’s
worried about a no-deal Brexit.
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