The Man You'd Fear the Most

As he looks up eyed filled with red pigmentation and emotion of fear,

but as others stare they fear him the most. Attire roughly bare, torn and distracted from completion, his mind becomes a reflection of his shirt. He stares you down, unaware of your apprehension to glare back, rough appearance yet weak and vulnerable soul terminated by the white powder sniffed in years past. As he tries to control his facial spasms and hand gestures- he's weak. Uncontrollable emotions. Chewing on invisible piece of paper torn from an unread newspaper. Pupils wide and absorbing each point of light, he becomes dependent to light as a flower blooms from sunlight he becomes the blooming rough individual people avoid sitting next to. He gives me a glance, I smile. he looks down, he gives me a glimpse of his sorrow and shame of acknowledging my existence. He gives me a quick glance of his empty life filled with regret. In a second look, he gives me his life through brown eyes and red surroundings. In a milli second he gives me a sense of despair and sympathy. A sense that makes me feel humble and thankful- As he leaves, I give him my respect for sharing himself to me. I bow my head to his publicity and his five minute popularity. He steps out with his browned down blue sweatpants and black spring jacket worn in the winter with pride for his empty filled with sorrow self. He does not accept his past but starts each exit with a new beginning and erased history.