I used to call him “the man without a face”
I surmise he’d been burned
He was tough to look at
I’d see him on the street
Always alone
I wanted to approach
To maybe get to know him
But I was reticent, apprehensive
I suppose because of the brutality of his injury
It’s human nature to look away from sufferers
To not acknowledge that person in a wheelchair
I missed out on this one
I missed making a friend
Of learning
Of compassion
I’ve never stopped thinking of him
I always will