Printed from https://www.writing.com/main/interactive-story/item_id/1918590-Misery-loves-no-company
short poem
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"Good afternoon Miss Ruth."
"How do you know my name?"
"Everyone knows you." I answer.
She turns her ugly, big head my way.
A scowl, an upturned lip, then back to her papers.
She is studying a racing form.
A regular at the off track betting.
Eighty five if she is a day.
No smiles from the lady that is visibly bent.
Her head is too big for her body.
Obviously, she was no beauty even in her younger years.
Is she angry because I am younger and prettier?
Is she angry because she can't seem to pick a winner?
Doesn't she see, she is already a winner?
Having reached a ripe age, closing in on centurion.
Someone hoots a yell and laughter,
She turns her head to look,
As though the laughter hurts her ears.
How sad that she can't find her smile.
A woman blessed with so many moons.
I can see the reasons she should be happy.
Blinded by her misery,
Will she wait till her dying day, to realize her gift of life,
Or is she so miserable that she can't wait?
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Printed from https://www.writing.com/main/interactive-story/item_id/1918590-Misery-loves-no-company