Of a homeless person 
sitting,
rather living
outside the local
7/11
For some reason
I walk into
the store of
convenience
and buy a lotto ticket.
I give the ticket
to the person sitting
hunched wishing it
were coffee.

He hits the jack
pot the very
next day.

He buys a forty
Of the really
good stuff.

Wonder what became
Of him.

I’m Mark

His friends observe Mark seems wired a little differently. Perhaps it’s more likely that noticing little things often missed by others is a relic of a quieter, simpler time. He has a way with words, which he refuses to let be hindered by sub-par typing skills. People have great stories to tell if you sit and listen.

A belief dear to Mark is that there is certain beauty in the world. You simply have to look for it.

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