Monday, April 23, 2012


He stands on the median
Hastings and Cassiar
Homemade cardboard sign tossed to the ground
Pacing back and forth
     Arms in the air
     Face looking up
     Words shouted out
     Fists clenched tight
     Shaking at the heavens.

There is anguish there.
So many stories
a lifetime of listening wouldn't be enough.

A pot of anguish soon looses its lid.
The fury is boiling over -
The pot cannot contain it.

The pot was never meant to contain a lifetime of hell
      broken promises
      broken bones
      broken heart
      broken dreams
      broken mind
      broken world.

And it is a broken world
In which I drive by with food for the week
While he shakes his fists at heaven
Cursing today.

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