IT was there within the crack
of a sun-baked sidewalk
a beaten trampled path upon

that I placed my brittle soul
next to the weeds that grew
within a gritty soiled ground

Passerby, your foot so close
to the fractured light —
I see your sole but lost my own

Is the reason why I choose
that the thumb of rule is to be
that I watch the walkers leaving me?

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