A shimmer, a sort of twinkling within his eyes...it tells tales of a life well known to hardship, to him, a life hardly worth filling. He remains bound, imprisoned, cemented in a desolate dwelling, an existence that seems well beyond my outreach to assist him from the monstrous anomalies that besiege him. 
- Round dark, dingy street corners, he is familiar with people and places that burden consistent clouds of tempest atop their heads. Mingling still, he has self awareness that he belongs amidst this rigid, unwilling to set a soul free, hell. 
- He takes, steals from me as he does with many others...still, a malevolence of my own towards him is absent; for I empathize with where he is constrained. I know all too well the harboring feelings and am so very familiar with the breath taking grasps and strong holds of such a seemingly minuscule substance. I can coincide wholly, with his existing agony.....