She is a cracked plastic spoon,

brittle, cheap, temporary

in our use it, bin it world.

Not worth a second thought –

that’s what he thinks, anyway.

He is a brutal jackhammer

pounding everything in his path

scything his way through

without a second thought.

They are a match made in hell.

Sadly, this poem was inspired by a couple I observed whilst out and about in town today. They played on my mind and followed me home, in my head at least. I feel a little better for ‘writing it out’, but I do wonder what will become of them.