Thirty poems in thirty days: DAY 7


For the man who sits on the street corner begging for life to be dripped into his cup
For the man who shakes at the urinal waiting for the barrel to be placed to his head
For the man who sells his soul to sell more stock
For the man who talk to himself on the bus just to get a reaction from the girl next to him
For the man who drags himself out of bed at 4 to drag his son to hockey at 5 and his daughter to swimming at 6 and from a cigarette at 7 before he punches the clock at 8
For the man who drops out of school to work to support his schooling; irony lives
For the man who finds god behind back alley dumpsters in dark forgotten places
And the man who finds god in the beauty of the smiles of strangers' faces
For the man who finds god in the solitude of a thousand imagined races
And the man who finds god in the numbing normality of his symmetrical daily paces

This is for you.

The forgotten, the bruised, the enslaved, the abused
the loved, the hurt, the underappreciated
Overcompensated, confused
Sacrificial lambs of society's tangle
thank you
for the beauty of being alive
and in the reality of all the fakeness that surrounds
Thank you for giving me a glimpse of hope that abounds
In the out of bound places that reside in our dreams

They are real
And so are you.

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