Cafe Del Soul
By Marc Carver -- Contributing Poet -- [Email This Item]
As I sat on the metro
Trying to see into peoples souls
a soldier came past.
Both his crutches were cut off
so were his legs.
He had big clumping shoes attached to his knees
I moved a dead can of beer from his way
as people started to give him money.
He did not even need to ask
I thought about the change in my pocket
But it did not seem enough
not enough to give for his legs.
As he passed me
the two stumps of his legs trailing behind
I wished I gave him the money
just so I
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