Give people credit
in your privacy.
No need to tell
like announcing your wish
as you throw coins
into a well.
Keep it in your pocket.
Flip that token in your mind
to the kid that you hate
at the arcade,
for all his vitality,
his sincere energy,
and his viscous winning shouts,
the braggery and obnoxious touts.
You give him the coin because
who knows what secret anguish he escapes,
The glass in soil through which he toes
to arrive at a home, all dark and alone.
And give it to him,
if for no other reason,
so that he can keep playing
his games, and you can keep playing yours.
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