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OBLIVIOUS
He sat in his last seat
In the corner window
Starbucks on Union
Steps from the Speaker's home
Groggy, woozy, looking drunk.
I walk on, circle the Marina.
Upon returning the street is a-glow
With the lights of 3 fire trucks
And an ambulance.
Looking in, a medic touches the man's shoulder
He does not move.
You see the stone body.
Another medic touches his chest.
He does not move.
He was a man --
Now a corpse.
They bring in a stretcher
So we walk on.
That was it, 40 years old at most --
Gave up already --
Wow what a joke --
All that food to an idiot --
When little angels go without
This big dummy drugs himself out.
Well, the suffering . . .
Always the suffering
Even when in the last moment
Of a sentient being
We stroll on oblivious
To the poor being
Who could not keep his mind
Focused on the blessings we are given 230407.1
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