JoelJosol Posted September 16, 2017 Share Posted September 16, 2017 The early morning sunlight spread its rays over them, the black umbrella held over him by his partner, and under its shade he opens his Bible exposing it in the sun. Beside him the old man stared at the page, squinting his eyes, his white-grey hairs glowing in the sun some sweat sliding down his sun-baked, half-dressed body, pausing from the day's toils, from news of another human being found dead in some forgotten corner of everybody's mind, while others walked by carrying their poverty in public, as some women clustered around a nearby seat where a child was crying, unmindful of another death in the neighborhood, killed with gunshots that woke them up to another day. The preacher gave him a magazine, yellow as the sun with the cover title asking, 'Angels- Are They Real?' (This is an attempt to combine two things that are important to me at present. My volunteer work in my public Christian ministry as a Jehovah's Witnesses and my love to write poetry.) Quote "Words are not things, and yet they are not non-things either." - Ann Lauterbach Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
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