the paint store clerk,
has
his picture on
the wall.
draped with a black
ribbon.
he's smiling, a smile
i've
seen before.
blue eyed
and the hair, my God,
the hair.
the blush
of freckles
on his face.
no hint of the short
life, that short road before
him.
before the pill was taken.
but the world blinks
and moves on.
there's a new
kid now,
behind the counter
of the paint store.
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