Immobile
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I know a man with the courage to live
with no legs nor arms; he can't even crawl.
And begs for coins, folks aren't willing to give,
plopped in the street like a broken doll.
Hardened hearts walk by with barely a glance
or accost him with sarcastic remarks.
But garnering pity's his only chance
and so, he sifts the darkness, seeking sparks.
A quadriplegic, he is immobile
and treated like a fractured Frankenstein.
And yet, he attracts angles with his smile,
connecting with hearts that are genuine.
I can't imagine myself in his place,
or even fathom what he has to face.
06,14,2019
Move me Poetry Contest
Sponsored by: Richard Lamoureux
Copyright © Emile Pinet | Year Posted 2019
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