HARD TIMES
Her interview suit she called it,
Yet it no longer did it really fit,
Hackneyed, too well by now,
Could it look better somehow?

Another cleaning maybe fatal,
Then she’d have no suit at all,
She could go to the good will,
A suit for a five dollar bill.

She looked into her tattered bag
And her brave heart began to sag,
A bus pass and ten dollars in change,
Then a thing happened quite strange.

She went to the free paper stand,
There was money near her hand,
A fifty dollar bill just lying there,
Was this an answers to her prayer.

There was no wallet with a name,
Nothing at all, maybe a silly game
To lift her up and throw her down,
Should she smile or wear a frown.

The bank told her the bill was real,
Imagine how good it made her feel,
A nice second hand suit just right,
She no longer was a hackneyed sight.

She found a job, bought groceries
And other important necessities,
She even took extra from the shelf
For those worse off then herself.

(Millicent) Ann Margetson 8 June 2004