When you saw me blind, 

I felt the motion of your turning away


“That could be me some day”

When you saw my scarred disfigured face and body 

Limbs missing from body

That ugly rash here and there, 

I saw you turn away,



“Could that be me some day?”

When I stunk from my low life

My life of poverty


Matted hair and beard,

You crossed the street to escape me


Yet                  wondering (with a shudder of fear)

“Could I ever fall so low in life

Could that ever be me?”

When I lay dying

Then dead

You nearly ran from what was left of me

Not knowing why you ran

But I,

the last breath I exhaled followed you with the wind,

I knew:

I reminded you that you too would die some day

And part of your running 

Was running from the many deaths you could imagine for yourself.

Just as seeing me in so many ways

You turned from me 

And so many others

Reminded of what you could be

And finally,

Reminded of what you will be

The same as all of us





And finally… Dead. 

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