Monday 11 May 2015

Thoughts for a defeated Liberal politician

He sits in front of his computer screen


avoiding the news.

Fixating vacantly on its pixels.

Demoralised, crestfallen

He drifts

amongst feelings of rejection,



The long night

still showing in his red, tired and baggy eyes;

the open window to his depressed soul

rejected by that 4:40 alarm call.


Why him?

Yesterday he had it all.

Now nothing, redundant;

ousted, displaced.



His unplanned future

waits before him as an empty screen.


© Sheila Ash, 11 May 2015

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