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Kate Bailey Man On A BenchWalking through the center of town You’ll see the same things that I saw, Including an old man on a bench Whose life seems to be without a flaw.
He keeps his headphones on his ears And hums the tune he knows so well, Ignoring the people who pass him by - The shops and the things they sell.
He carries bread to feed the birds And they often gather around his feet. They can see he is an innocent man And seem secure when close to his seat.
He breathes some smoke into his lungs While holding a cigarette between his fingers. He inhales death but is filled with life. When he is gone, the smell still lingers.
I often wonder what his secret is When I’ve see him smiling from day to day. Maybe one day someone will talk to him And he’ll show them the way.
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[TABLE OF CONTENTS, LHS CLASS OF 2009 EDITION]
Copyright © 2002-2007 Student Publishing Program (SPP). Poetry and prose ©
2002-2007 by individual authors. Reprinted with permission. SPP developed and designed by Strong Bat Productions.
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