there are days when the traffic lights colour in your favour
and others, ruined by misaligned stars
feels like somewhere above is a malignant touch
a bi-polar, cynical force

i’m alright with it, generally, you have to be
life is a lot about the luck of the draw
but not when it suddenly, absolutely matters –
when your happiness hangs on those sliding doors:

then i am wild with the lack of control
raging at the dictating of what is, or isn’t
coldly, remotely, this is divine intervention;
the devil may care, but doesn’t.