Not Holding Hands

She should have grabbed her hand as they threaded their way across the road.
That missed gesture would have opened up a path
Onto a higher level. The penalty for cowardice
Is death.

Knowing that dreams are unrealisable nightly
That tomorrow will certainly come
With no potential. That what little you possess
Has been taken away and added to
By someone else,

That the blood in your veins is concrete,
The air around you tarmac,
Your life carbon monoxide,

Surely this is death.