Unwashed Shores

Homeless man picture

They pass without seeing me, islands of guilt drifting past my unwashed shores.

I was once the same, purposefully prosperous, clutching that which was rightfully mine and well deserved, but somewhere, sometime, that changed and was no more. Doors once obsequiously opened to me now slammed shut against my bloodied face and outstretched supplications.

One of my kind shuffled by, nodding in kindred acknowledgement, but I saw his eyes lingering just a moment too long on my shoes. I would need to sleep elsewhere tonight, somewhere invisible.


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