Poem: Harsh Truths

My idealism slipped out the door or through the cracks – such a long time ago.

When I realised they weren’t gonna pay for idealism –

that no one was paying, and hardly anyone was staying –

I was off to anything else instead.

Some days – and most nights – I feel a strange kind of loss; I feel strangely lost.

But my idealism never mean that much to me. Clearly.