Porcelain King

I sit here feeling drained and a bit plain

A version of my life being played out through others
I watch people with hurried movements and quick bites
They consume nourishment in seconds all to afford more disposables
As I look at the crowd this random man takes a bite of his sandwich
I feel my stomach turn
I feel that in seconds he should be vomiting over a putrid porcelain bowl
Or maybe curled up and crying out in pain
Not because he contracted some food borne illness
But because his choices have suddenly overwhelmed him, making him violently ill
No such thing occurs, he just sits there in a daze, chewing
His Dockers’ pants, loafers and a generic button down shirt seem a uniform of sorts
Others around him are a part of the crew
Most look better, some worse but others share his pain
He doesn’t seem to see them he just sits there eating
He wears a plain gold band on his finger
From his face, I’ll say its been a while since he said “I do”
And an even longer while since he felt truly loved
He looks miserable, rejected, completely spent
While sipping his soup, I can see his mind is far away
Chomping into his sandwich he realizes tomorrow he will be in this place again
Different sandwich, different bowl, same life, same outlook
Hopefully at some point he will retrace the steps that got him to this cage
He will plot and scheme to break into the life he was meant to lead
Right now with slumped shoulders and a pale sunken face he sips his soup and stares
Exhaustion sets in for me as these thoughts swirl in my head
I feel a smaller cage closing in around me in this still larger confine
As I get up to leave, the man still sits there
But I know he doesn't sit just for himself

Posted on October 6, 2008 .