. . . Winston for 24 Hours and Glenn for 60 Minutes
While on a walk I make quite often Met a man who begged for my attention
His sign was simple, his face sincere Offered nothing 'cause I had not a thing
Winston told me his name and his intention Asked my name and shook me by the hand
Hundreds of exchanges every day Rarely am I greeted with such warmth
The very next day on the very same route Tells me his name is Glenn, not Winston
Being lied to is not what I'd preffer But I am glad to have his real name
On returning from an hour-long dinner Blue, red lights blind me as I draw closer
Glenn's face is pressed on the cold hood As chains are violently locked on his wrist
"Why?" to an officer of The Law All I want to know from her is that
Glances my way and barks an unsettling "Arrested . . . didn't show up for court!"
Didn't hear me or even turn his head But I wish he knew some thoughts I had
I did not fight, not even scream Watched quietly as they dragged him away
Can't say for sure if I know his real name Know not what he did and don't even care
I liked his handshake and his genuine face I hope to God they don't keep him too long . . .
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