Day 18, and the challenge is to write a ruba’i (singular) or rubaiyat.
I am catching up slowly,,,
I hear the postman at the door, with mail.
Anticipation sees me hold my breath, exhale.
Once again, manila brings bad news,
I wonder if I might end up in jail.
Debts build up and blow the tension fuse,
until you feel there’s nothing left to lose.
All I need’s a roof above my head,
and the fundamental right to choose.