“It was not always this way," he said.

Whiskey in his left hand, with his right bleeding ink on a page while saying, “It was not always this way,

Always this dirty, torn pants, reflector matching dusty boots and hiding pride and ego in sunglasses even on rainy days,

I was king once, hmmm, I was king once,  At my command, numbers would multiply, and greedy men would praise me for getting the numbers right.

My very words were gospel itself, my silence was was life, sharp and loud

That…. that was a long time ago...

Today is another day, another hard day, with no water and no rest.

Nothing but aching bones, burning feet with hands bleeding on a cheap spade that can only dig so far.

The universe’s favourite creation reduced to being questioned be lesser men! 

But what a taste? What a lesson! This feeling, this feeling of shame and pride all at once.

There is no bottom or high, just life, just life, and that’s all there is to it. Life!