Walkin on Air

Mistaken Identity

Somehow I was sure.  
Convinced that my sense of discernment  
could never be wrong:  
cloning a 'swansong'  
due to my hasty and poor judgment,  
I sullied the pure.  

Not much to look at
his polio limp begged for pity:
a magnet invite
his 'poor me' respite
shower-sang an off key false ditty
that vomit begat.

Right, t'was plain to see!
His daily privacy intrusion
one day changed it all,
it wasn't my call:
he saved my life with blood-transfusion;
we both had AB.

Instinctive revulsion had truth denied:
inner beauty by my blindness hogtied.


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Mistaken Identity

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