b.d.m.c.
By Roland E. Williams
The blind, the deaf, the mute, and the crippled, they never let go of us nor do we of them. They leave us silent and silenced, but never thoughtless.
I told my son today, I met an Eskimo lady just yesterday. He was amused, but not amazed; but I did not mention meeting a blind man earlier today;
nor the deaf-mute who crossed my path four days ago.
Deep in our minds,
pity can be found in a corner,
holding hands with curiosity
while both are embraced
by shame.
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