I use to study the lunches
of other kids
as we sat at the long
hard table
in the cafeteria.
the boy with the egg
salad sandwich,
the crust removed,
was one.
a thermos of milk
in his plaid lunch box.
carrots in a small
bag, cut up just so.
an apple. a small
box of raisons.
even a note, saying
I love you.
have a good day. mom.
I always felt like
this kid was going
somewhere
as I took the peanut
butter sandwich out
of my used paper
bag and sipped on
a carton of two cent milk.
it surprised me
when I read about him
in the paper,
years later
after he jumped from
the top floor
of the prudential building.
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