Beautiful downtown Atlanta
Sunny, blue, cloudless sky
Tall, wide, massive buildings
Window glass glistening in the sun
Beautiful, well-dressed people
Gainfully employed people
Taking care of business people
Running essential errands
Contributing to the community
Pursuing positive, purposeful lives.

I take in the sights, sounds, smells
Sounds of people walking, talking
Engines revving and car horns
Smells of restaurants and fast food vendors
Engine exhaust and overheated brakes
The feel of the sidewalk
Under my expensive dress shoes
The heat of the sun on my face and neck
The exciting hustle and bustle
Of a thriving metropolis.

A faint “Please, sir. . .” reaches my ears
And a homeless man appears
*****, disheveled, hirsute
“Please, sir. Could you. . .”
His weak speech trails off
As I divert my eyes, quicken my pace
Ignoring his petty pleas
As he disappears in my wake
Bothersome soul, good riddance
Why doesn’t the city do something?

Days later the encounter haunts me
I was so proud of the way I handled myself
How easy it was to dismiss a soul in need
Months later the encounter haunts me
Instead of the clever human
I had become cruel, inhuman
Unfeeling, unkind, uncaring
Years later the encounter still haunts me
Never will it ever happen again
Never. . . ever.

Catch me a body
Give me a vessel
One that I can deposit in for future savings
My safety net
My last call
My first account for the day

Every one listens to ME,
Friends, ma'am's, even you sir,
Pent lips spit trusts
Trust me.
My tongue isn't forked
It's lickety-split
Read My lisps
My
Trusts
Rusts
Us
Ts
Neither friend nor enemy  
I'm the inner me

Does she ever catch
that grin on your lips
or the glimmer in your eye
when you’re thinking of me?
I bet you draw my portrait in your sleep
Your blue rose
Your broken diamond
You never forget the lyrics
to your favorite song
See me
Breathe me
Bleed me
Don’t forget me

- Selfish

I was never born to be a hero
and to you, or by you, I'm not obliged
Cause I've no healing power bestowed,
no superman strength nor laser eyes

In fact,
my bones are twigs,
my flesh jelly
My mind's been rigged,
I need no more burden to carry

And I've fulfilled no expectations of yours
I'm not even trying to anymore
Cause I am not here to save the day
So keep your wrathful sorrow to yourself

It's your problem when you disregard God's voice, not mine.

No matter how you "perceive" it, the reality of the state of those suffering whom you callously disregard, saying "all is well" in your unloving indifference, remains unchanged.