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A Living Obituary

The moon twinkles bright in the dark, lonely night sky

An air of sadness surrounds me

I feel betrayed;

Betrayed like baby birds when their mom pushes them out the nest

so they can learn how to fly,

Betrayed like a confused kitten when his mom hisses at him,

Betrayed like being told I’m worthless–

I’m useless

I’m worthless

I’m useless

I’m worthless

They don’t need me anymore; after giving my whole life to them,

I was shown the door,

Oh! The despair, the desolation, the dejection, the dishonour,

Once a common name, now forgotten; the times have really changed, haven’t they?

The horror!

To face the defamation of being kicked out of the company and then finding out I

am being replaced by a younger, shinier me!

Why was the guise suddenly more important than the realism?

And the detriment felt like a knife to the gut

So solemn, so sombre, so subdued,

I walk home scattering sadness all along the path,

Oh! How ill-mannered of me to not introduce myself–

My last name is Pockets, Women’s Pockets.

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Giovanni groggily sat up in his wheelchair. He had fallen asleep again. He gripped the inner wheel as he pushed himself along the sterile hallways. The hallways were so familiar they appeared even in


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