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Poetry I watch them walk by

Zopiclone bandit

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Jan 25, 2018
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I watch them walk by
Always catching their Face & then as they go past
I make little Movies about them in my Head.
Some faces are so worn down by the Horrors of Life & yet also the Mundanity of it also
it hangs on them like melted wax from a Novena.
An old man with his dog, flashbacks of The War
A Woman filled with time-bombs of Cervical cancer.
I wonder when they look at my face as I sit on a bench
what they think of me as they walk by,
Dopesick on a Wednesday afternoon in Town.
 
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