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Forgotten
I one looked into the eyes
Of a man who wasn’t there
And he scribbled on the air
That the man just didn’t care
But he spoke words as true
As truer words could know
He had somewhere to be
But he had nowhere to go
I heard his feet shuffle the earth
Silently moving
Across the liquid turf
If I could see that man today
Would I notice what he's worth?
poem
by
P.R. Prosper
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