His awkward step and unsure face
running up the pavement a concrete wave
His short black hair and glasses
his reflection an appariton in the cheap bakery window
Looking back at himself not knowing it was his own likeness
Crossing walking stumbling he is a man
Cars wouldn't slow he awkwadly speeds up his step
Reaching the curb lifting that leg and ankle
The sun cradles him
The ground scoffs as he steps on it
He climbs the stairs
derision echoes across the steel
Their voices overfed dribbling sarcasm
The man's struggle is food for the Gods
They weave jealousy and trickery to the jeerers
False sense of seriousness and maturity
The man continues his day
His body seldom obeys
Angels aww and shed tears
the pain of today mirrors that of decades to come
The fork is laiden Gods mouth opens
he chews and ingests witnessing the man below
amongst us being laughed at
by healthy brand buying conveyor belt people
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