The modern artist doesn't sit in a café all day writing poetry because there is a job to be done. There is rent to be paid and since you know kid, there is no such thing as a full time artist no more.

I asked so many times, where does it end. Soon, it said. The hope.
I waited through the first disappointment. I said, when will love reach me? Soon, it said.
I waited tables for seven years. When is my break, I asked. Soon, it said.
I went to school against wishes of mine and asked why doesn't it feel right.
Have patience, it said.
I worked for free for experience for five years. Where is my job, I asked.
It's coming, it said. Just wait for the guys to die.
I went back to school to mean more. I almost died, I said. Will it be better now?
Yes, yes, it promised. It changes stuff.
So I went, half dead, half on my knees, asking, please. Take me in.
I'll do anything.
Like what?
Well, not that kind of stuff. Cause I'm educated now. You see, I got a new shirt.
From my mummy's purse. I stole to see you today.
Do you even know how much is a fare?
From my nowhere to your shining, a lot of stairs of slipped possibilities.
And you're just one of them. Looking down at me from the 24th floor.
Man I can play this game and speak your fancy. I can sit at a desk and show you mercy.
I sit. You look down at me and you don't realize that you've been in the upside-down.
You're in hell made of glass prisons made for glass souls.
I just got lost, I'm sorry. My pencil skirt got me here.
My diploma fooled me like a mean lover. Yeah, it never loved me.
Like a mother to a kid, I said: you know what I gave you? And it laughed.
Kids hate us as they should. I stopped being a kid with that first job.
Cup of coffee with skimmed dream. Reality hit. A little girl gone.

There she is. In a pencil skirt, looking for a home.
Where is home, she asked. Very near, it said.
She went on doing her thing. A beer. One for her. Another one. Unfinished story.
Of you, old bugger with full pockets of absolutely nothing.
She's upset. She's done her fair share of overtime. The overtime of dealing with this world.
World that doesn't answer simple questions. Like...

Why am I still alone if I'm patient enough?
Why do I keep this job if I'm so too good?
Why does sun shine and my face rains?
Why has it been so long and nothing changed?
Why have I changed from passion to stability.
Why did you leave me for so long. Why did I trust you anyway?
Why, my hope, are you so shy. I'm alone now, Saturday night. Asking the same. Why,
Why did the modern artist die?

You killed it, hope. Patience is gone. Passion gave up. Talent can be bought.
I sat everywhere – the glass building to a cold street. I made it from smart to hard.
I made it as you guided me through the roads of the modern world. Unknown. But I know.
Friend called me in the middle of the day, so upset.
I hate it, she said. Smart, but stupid, believing in the modern world of glass rooms.
Smart suits, wise words, meaningless facts, of no one's lives.
She called, the smartest of them all but the smartest bear no answers. Ha aha!
Yes. The smart people have all the money. The smart people rule. The smart people don't ask.
But she asked and you all ask since the world is ending and you're realising,
The smart ones are stupid and the stupid ones are smart because they stayed away from you.
So I told her:

Look at life as if you're dead.
Look and don't lie, once.
Do you see a glass space? Do you see nothing else, but forced conversations with pretended friends?
Are you sick of the race?
Do you hate yourself?
Get up, get out.
Remember who you are.
A fucking artist of life. Do you even remember the taste?
Of a morning coffee brewed after first light of a freedom sleep.
Get up, get out. Have time instead of hating time.
Don't cry baby, don't cry.

Have...hope ha-ha.

Sonia Hadj Said is a Polish-Tunisian writer currently based in London. Her debut novel was published by Novae Res publisher in Poland. Her poems have been published by Berlin ArtParasites and included in a Pivot&Pause anthology by TELL(h)ER Co. She's a founder of a platform Why Magazine which publishes stories of underprivileged creatives. In her free time, Sonia daydreams about moving to Scotland with her cat, Sassenach.

Instagram: soniahsaid