I have taken a torch

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Through city streets

In search of honesty,

But found pickpockets,

Shoplifters,

Bogus offers

And immoral charity collectors.

I have slept in an earthenware jar,

But all I learned

Was that sleep

Came slowly

With night rain

Bringing pain.

I practice cynicism,

But like Diogenes

I fear it will

Just end

In death.

                                                   _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

Owain Glyn