On my way into work this morning we arrived at an intersection in the East end of the city where the desperately poor live, on the streets.
The bus paused at the cross lights long enough for me to see these words scrawled on the walls of a building, ironically a bank:
" In the new beginning
Hold your heads up
Anew and Fresh"
The author signed "love" to this.
While just down the street people were curled like rag dolls on the sidewalk, one man was shooting up and another was bent over in the rictus of despair and great pain.
The bus paused at the cross lights long enough for me to see these words scrawled on the walls of a building, ironically a bank:
" In the new beginning
Hold your heads up
Anew and Fresh"
The author signed "love" to this.
While just down the street people were curled like rag dolls on the sidewalk, one man was shooting up and another was bent over in the rictus of despair and great pain.