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May 2020
Seated alone in a church pew
Hushed voices all around
Don't let him hear you;

They say his mother passed
All of his luck has run dry
They say he's the last
Can't you see him cry?

They say he lives alone
Barely old enough
A shabby place to call home
The young man has it quite rough

They say he sits there
Alone in the church pew
Praying for a better life, if an angel will hear
Then he goes, writes for the few
Who will pay him a penny for his thoughts

Can't you see him in the street?
Watch his feet
Slow stride
He's got nothing left to hide
Don't let him hear you say;

They say he wears his father's old clothes
He was the first to go
Down in the ground
Have pity, have pity
Don't let him hear you say;

They say-

"I can hear you!"
He cries, so suddenly,
"And let me tell you what is true,"
"For none of you know me,"
"Or my story, so let me tell it,"
"Not the unfortunate likes of you,"
"With nothing better to do than whisper of my life."

- Jay M
May 7th, 2020
People whispering about someone they've never spoken to, gossiping about someone's life that they never knew about. Don't assume you know someone based on their looks and mannerisms.

*Part of my creative writing portfolio.
Jay M
Written by
Jay M  16/F/California, USA
(16/F/California, USA)   
     Jay M and Bogdan Dragos
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