When you go with a list of four problems
but the doctor has time for just two,
when you’ve scraped up his fee since last pay day
and there’s scarcely enough left for food,
how does it feel to be bound to a wheel
in a life as surreal as a circus?
When the bruise on your face is less painful
than the shame of which you can’t speak,
when the doctor just offers you Panadol,
then asks you if you still smoke,
how does it feel to be bound to a wheel
in a life as surreal as a circus?
When you wanted to talk of depression
but the kids scream and fight in the corner,
when the din makes it hard to be heard
so you mention instead your sore shoulder,
how does it feel to be bound to a wheel
in a life as surreal as a circus?