the kids are all
decked up
at the function to
commemorate
another successful
year running
more altered fates
he stares back
through unkempt
dusty hair, eyes
charming
with a look of
reckless
vulnerability disarming
hidden with a
contemptuous smile
same as the other kids
in other pictures
in the files
amongst the many dated
record-shots taken
in the streets
there’s one that’s
from
a happy riverside
picnic
beside the smiling kids
standing by the
jetty ramp
in orange
life-jackets, is a banner
that says
de-addiction camp
he’s here now,
talking
on his cell phone
absent-mindedly taking
a cup that someone’s
thrown
to the dustbin. smart
in his
faded denims and
check shirt brown
he works as a
computer technician
at an upmarket
print studio in town
we walk past the
pictures put up
that the kids here now
have drawn
it’s true for all
of us, he says
any way, i too, could’ve
gone
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