Disturbing
He smelled of a greasy lunch.
Three o'clock that afternoon
sweat hovered in the stale air.
Traffic squeaked and sputtered
nearby under rough tension.
Close eyes only dared brief glances
averting stare as much from
repulsion as courtesy.
Aid was not offered; no help
because no one thought to help.
Desirables sought exit
equally hoping that this
might soon exit their pure minds.
Yet it lingered there; image
burned into their memories.
Chasing it out thus required
action; earlier shirked.
Guilt propagated as judgement.
Revulsion overwhelmed
their compassionate mercy.Discussion about this post
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