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Conscience

20 May 2006

His eyes meandered,
Trying to follow the flies cloaking him in a shawl.
It was hot enough already.

He picked up some of the morsels of his rotten meal,
Mixing it with some shiny sand,
Playing with it.

Upstairs I sat, stoic and dignified,
Trying to ignore him raising his hand
Offering to share.

Then our eyes met
For just a second
And he smiled at me.

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