Half Agony, Half Hope

The Window Man

I look in at an office,

A hub of cloned bots, 

Click-clacking on keyboards,

The grey half-walls of a makeshift classroom

Shrivelled foreheads and furrowed brows.

They look through clouded glass,

They see a poor man,

A stressed man, and a bored man,

Washing wet windows in blue overalls,

But my side of the glass is not dirty. 

I look at the sparkling pane,

The white foaming soap,

Bubbling on honest glass.

Wiping away grey sludge with a scraper,

I think blue overalls suit me more.