Immobile
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I saw a man with the courage to live
without legs or arms; he couldn't even crawl.
Begging for coins folks aren't willing to give;
he's plopped on the street like a broken doll.
Hardened hearts walk by with barely a glance;
or accost him with sarcastic remarks.
Garnering pity is his only chance;
and so, he sifts the darkness, seeking sparks.
A quadriplegic, he's left immobile;
and propped up like a fractured Frankenstein.
And yet, he attracts Angels with his smile,
connecting with those who are genuine.
I can't imagine myself in his place;
or even fathom what he has to face.
Copyright © Emile Pinet | Year Posted 2019
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