It was like magic
Boasting how I once
Worked at a printer assistant
As we walked by the printing place,
The door popping out,
The little man popping out,
Inviting us to take a tour,
The old scent of paper
And ink overwhelming me,
Dragging me back to
That day when
The girl I would come to love
And later marry,
And got introduced to
Looked up from her sorting
Of labels to say,
“You’ll be sorry,”
And all these years later,
On this stroll we took
After the diner,
I expected this girl
With big eyes
To say the same,
After she had already
Laid out her life story,
The trials and tribulations,
How she had wound up
Here walking these streets
With me,
While I struggled to
Keep track of it all,
Except by her
Trail of tears,
The small man
With inked stained fingers
Making me jealous
Holding her attention,
A man who accomplished things
While I merely pretended,
How different my life
Might have been
Had I stayed in that old
Print factory
And gotten my fingers
Stained with ink
As well.
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