The only quietude he’d ever known
Was throwing papers in the morning dark;
As there, in dawning silence he, alone,
Would pedal past the edges of the park.
Each paper that he’d throw would, in an arc,
Land gracefully upon a greening lawn.
The contrast to his home life was so stark,
Where all was chaos: angry, woebegone –
A home that hatred set its face upon;
But which he could escape when came the dawn

2 thoughts on “Paperboy

  1. The picture and the poem combined reminded me of Khaled Hosseini’s The Kite Runner. I don’t know if you’re familiar with it, but this reminded me of that: poignant, with a touch of anger and sadness.

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