(Nothing fancy and interesting here. Just something I wrote on my phone across the street from the shelter I'm staying at in Brooklyn. Took me maybe all of 5 minutes.)
You handed me a rose wrapped in paper
It was beautiful in my mind
I could smell its delicate scent
Feel the velvet touch of its petals
But then I realized that it was all an illusion
And you left me standing there
In the rain
With nothing
Broken and alone
Dancing with shadows
Remnants and whispers from those
Who would prefer to see me cry in pain
And die with the shame of another man's sins on my lips
Confess that to your God
And see what he says
Does he still forgive you for your transgressions
Will he look away from the innocent to protect
What you claim is righteous
For ye who profess to have faith?
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