i
saw
her
struggling
with just a few
bags
of
groceries
one
in
each
arm
her
back
was
bent
i
imagine
that
the days
she’s lived
rolled over
her like thousands
of cars over an old
highway
her
face
was
cracked
she
didn’t
say it
but
that
bastard
she called
her
husband
gave it
to her good
a few
too many
times
with
his
meaty
fists
she told
me that
i was
a good man
i
nodded and
walked off
truth
is that
there
are no
good men
anywhere
it’s
not
that
black &
white.
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