To the Osaka homeless man on his cane
Who approached me as I held my new $100
leather coat
I responded in French and shuffled away
Just as I responded in Japanese
To the bum in the Paris Metro
Before I felt bad and went back
He told me to go fuck myself
And disappeared down the echoing corridor
I am not perfect
I am good when I drop a few coins
Or buy a copy of The Big Issue and chat
But sometimes, scared or startled
I turn my back on the man
Who I could one day be
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