A couple  

With hungry child,  

Approach the checkout.  

In their trolley,  

Are basic necessities.  

Nothing elaborate,  

Every item one of need.  

They consult the plastic,  

Enter digits,  

Hoping to God   

For the green numbers.  

STRIKE ONE   

“Please re-enter”   

Demands that soulless terminal screen.  

Embarrassing the couple,  

Exposing their shame,  

To fellows winking,  

Thinking,  

“We’re better than them”.  

“Sometimes the card sticks …   

Have another go   

OK?”

Transaction re-entered.  

STRIKE TWO   

Declined again! … then again.

STRIKE THREE!!    

You are out.

Derision haunts the couple,   

Shoppers laugh behind their hands.   

The sad pair,   

Buy meagre items,    

With a handful of coins,    

Loose, forlorn in a bag.  

Biscuits, milk.    

The forlorn child   

Hurriedly tears the packet,  

Gnawing the nourishment,    

Like a hungry rat.   

Whither now?   

God only knows   

Toward what end     

Their forlorn destiny will lead.    

They wander from the precinct,    

Into the nether regions,   

Of near distance.   

Rain falls,   

Lightly from the sky,   

How they wish   

It was manna from Heaven.