The Getting By

It is without reason,  
merit or reply.  
It is sunken beyond  
any measurable depth.  
It is trapped somewhere  
within an overgrown garden.  
It is the listening to the last hours  
going by and being  
denied the ability to move with them.  
It is the laughter of those  
ten years your junior;  
the laughter for something  
too far gone.  
It is the bar tab  
that steals the rent and food  
from your pocket.  
It is the eyes of a loved one  
leaving you to stare at something new.  
It is sitting down amongst those  
who have helped you survive  
and feeling alone.  
It is a taste of something...  
a taste of getting by.