the bum’s rush

their stares are
satchels full of daggers
that puncture flesh

a life
less ambition
more addiction
will suffer you indignity

you will lose
more than your smile
youth seldom is forgiving
having never known shame
the pains of false promises
mistakes that aren’t washed away with apology

the suffering you sleep under
at night
at the shelter
isn’t enough
karma wants more blood
pity the man
left to strong drink & his own devices
suffering his way homeless
disheveled and stinky
sticky and wild
last night was an endurance of hell fire
the begging wasn’t a trick
laying there alone
dying
isn’t a punishment
it is the product of our apathetic failures
at being God
shame on us
for losing even one of his children
to the fire
of his own devices
pity our judgement now
less when we are judged
by the thing that created us
the same wretched, we smile.

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