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Indistinguishable Faces
I see swarms of people going places:
everyone is rushing to be somewhere.
And their indistinguishable faces
parade past me, like I wasn't even there.
Behind sarcastic stares, I feel their hate,
as a collective resentment of me.
For they believe that I deserve my fate:
a disgusting beggar is all they see.
So few have a kind word or coin to spare:
most don't see a hurting human being.
And, without even pretending to care:
they hurry by, without ever seeing.
I cry a little almost every day;
counting on time to wipe my tears away.
Copyright ©
Emile Pinet
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