Dark skinned man on train,
Wearing a threadbare soldiers uniform.
Quite an assumption on this viewers behave,
But
He has never fought in a war.
Dark skinned man on a train,
Has on his head a Rastafarian beanie.
Preaching boisterously,
While at the same moment
To his audience,
He’s hustling candies that he’s stolen.
Dark skinned man on the train,
Spoke of the Bill of Right
And how because he has no permit todo what he’s doing he’s harassed by the police.
It vexes me to watch the drool as it falls from his lips.
He is only kvetching,
Because the American dream,
Is one he was too anesthetized to live.
Why is this man preaching,
When nothing can be heard over the poignant scent of marijuana and alcohol it seems he’s bathed in?
After other passengers for the dollar they have worked long hours for.
Dark skinned man on the train,
Still high,
Vociferously dreaming of peace.
Quite an assumption for myself, just a traveling viewer to make,
But I can see what runs along each of the bystanders mind.
That it’s depressing to see this troubled man,
but there’s nothing that I can do.
Perhaps it’s…he preaches of peace, but finding it on this earth is like fucking for virginity.
Or
We all must work so we may eat.
Why should you, dark skinned man be awarded for doing nothing.

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