a weathered man greets me on a corner
his face, aged ten times and his smile barely cracks
but I know it’s there as his eyes always confirm
for a million moments in passing
he shares with me his story
I read every line trenched in his scaling cheek
and coarse wore out locks
paint for me a daily tragedy
and all I do is keep walking
Earth To Ash 
I love this, coarse granules of blackest days…
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Thanks, my buddy. Glad you liked this one.
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