Scissors in Hand
[Poetry]
by Jahara A. Solaiman
Before I cut the thread,
Know that I tried, after all that’s been said.
That it took all of me
To give up and set you free.
I hope you find what’s meant to be yours.
That you find lasting joy washed up on your shores.
I hope you will keep better
What you could not get from me
But got from another.
I hope I can still be able,
To watch you eat from Life’s bounty,
But not anymore at my table.
All the best.
Snip!
At the Checkout
[Poetry]
by Jahara A. Solaiman
The worn-out cashier
Peered over the slinky line.
Shoppers, baskets, carts
Groaning with today’s largesse
Freezer bags of apathy and indifference,
Bunches of misfortune,
Cases of vanity,
Boxes of strife.
A packet of hope right here and there.
Perhaps a small jar of love
That had been overlooked.
No sachets of common sense to be seen.
As usual, canisters of pure joy
Always out of stock.
A soul’s nourishment and poison.
Shoppers paid with their lives, many dearly, some frugally.
The cashier tiredly took these from pained hands,
Packs the goods firmly into fragile paper bags.
A receipt of hedonism is stapled.
One by one, the souls file out homeward,
From Life’s Supermarket
Till the next shopping trip.
Thank you, come again.

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