A man, alone,
weighed down, pulled in,
hunched over
by the weight of his baggage.
The icy drops piercing his skin, rolling down his cheek, and releasing,
descend and explode as they barrage the pavement.
People passing.
He is dark-skinned with clear, glazed eyes.
Clear with life and hope (only tucked away, ready for the spark, like embers in a downpour),
yet glazed with despair and rain.
People passing,
staring,
always staring.
He peers into the haze,
forlorn,
alone,
gone,
at a crossroads--where to go? Life or
Death?
People passing,
and no one cares about another man's
Life.
