Last chocolate bar before I left

I paid my sixty pence
in to the vending machine,
for a few mouthfuls of chocolate
and nougat, I think;
little knowing that just one hour later
I’d be leaving –
desk packed up into my bag
and pin-striped suit pockets.
Straight from the two p.m. meeting to discuss
my redundancy,
away I disappeared
from my newly ex-colleagues’ lives.
If only I’d got the king-size
or a Twix instead,
somebody else might have taken the chop,
though, probably not.


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