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Neither of us is God
but I finally found
someone who
answers my prayers
Unkempt dreadlocks atop threadbare suit
he enters the subway car with confident stride
The scents of self-neglect clear a path for him
as though he were a king.

He takes a seat and with uplifted chin
gazes without apology at onlookers
who pretend not to notice his grand entrance.

With deliberate slowness he extracts a half-eaten candy bar
from a crumpled paper bag and fastidiously takes a bite
brushing invisible crumbs from grimy jacket.

Poverty of circumstance has not diminished his dignity.
Things get broken
Hearts
Minds
It's no-one's fault
It never is
Not really
Butter fingers and distraction
Without malice or forethought
Things
Like hearts and minds
Slip
And shatter on hard contact with reality

                                       By Phil Roberts
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