Caught in the Fluorescent Glow

Caught in the Fluorescent Glow

Caught in the fluorescent glow between snacks and deals,
Reality strikes with the force of a shopping cart’s wheels.
Here I am at forty, staring down aisles of escape,
Wondering if youth can be reshaped by tape or drape.
Each item on the shelf whispers promises it can’t keep,
A sports car in miniature, too small and far too cheap.

I fill my cart with gadgets I’ll soon forget,
Hoping each purchase cuts ties to regret.
Midlife murmurs in every step I take,
Past cereals that crunch like decisions I can’t unmake.
Gym memberships and designer jeans stack high,
Tokens of a youth that sighs, slips by.

I’ve traded dreams for routine, comfort for pause,
Chasing echoes of who I was, without cause.
The bright packaging can’t hold back the time,
Nor can the checkout erase the grime.
I roll into Aisle 3, a cliche on wheels,
Amongst bargains that bargain for how emptiness feels.

My heart heavy with cracks no product can fill,
Each beep at the register tallying the bill.
Perhaps a new car, a splash of dye in my fading hair,
Will smooth the edges of this existential wear.
Yet, deep down, beneath every swipe and beep,
Lies a man still too restless to sleep.