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Just living off the goodness of others,

Feeling as lowly as a morsel of

Humble pie.

No use asking why.

The world spins as it spins.

No use wishing to cry.

~

No longer able to work with hands or mind,

Feeling as worthless as a slug on

Dry earth.

Scarce are the raindrops in

Living out this pauper’s birth.

~

Still, I smile

As I lift reddened eyes to the heavens,

Above the worldly guile.

~

Still, I smile.

by S.A. Bort 11 December 2015

photo: © Manny Terrero