Ecce homo

 

He lives to be
beaten
his ego bruised
it matters little
being abused
is better than being
invisible or incidental
in the pub
he is a man
as strong and impenetrable
as a cathedral
leaning on the bar
one hand in his pocket
the other curled around his pint
laughing with the rest of them
as he glances at the clock
willing the hands to stop
then the long walk home
when the darkness dissolves
the man in him
an egg without its shell
waiting to be fried

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