Mary’s not going to pay her bills on time
No concern for fine cheese and expensive wines
Riding subways straight
Under the streets
Standing upright on sore feet
Asthma machine is 6 feet deep
Her certainty in uncertain
Uncertain of the next job
Or the next paycheck
Not contained in simple
Passages from underground
I wish to help
For I stand helpless
These poems ideas felt a million times before
What can I offer
What can I do more
These circumstances I can not change
Take her world rearrange
Life fruit lay in her bounty
For I am the one who must need pity
Wanting to help
With nothing to give
Yet neither of us should shed pity on others life lived
So I walk on
Battle over
Defeated
Destroyed inside
Maybe if I offered help I would feel alive
But I walk through the tunnels to my next passage
From the subways to the streets
And on with life