Just Another Poem by Patricia Cecilia Burrowes

Raised in a family of wealth.

Went to school, learnt to read and write.

Had a shower every single day of his life,
brushed his teeth as often. 

Eat hundreds of loaves of bread, with butter enough

to sculpture a cow out of it.
In addition to letters, learnt math,
and chemistry, and physics, and biology, and history, and geography,
and literature,
and cut it all off along with the hair on his head

that never stopped growing
- they say, not even now.
Got a woman, a house, a kid

(seventeen, this year) :
apparently he even got a dog, and a job
also, plenty of ideas, silly or not.
Did anyone know what he thought?

In the middle of the night he met: 

a bag full of lemons, a bottle of vodka and a bus
coming the opposite direction.

Some, they pray, other they cry
all she can do is go out and get 

another new pair of shoes.

On credit.