Paradise

Paradise

I am walking down the street with a bag of shopping on my left arm.

There is a homeless young man asleep curled up in a blanket with his work boots placed beside him. He has his back to me. From the color of his skin I would have guessed North African. Or he could just be a well-tanned European from his living in the open.

A few feet away a gentleman is taking the picture of his lady partner in front of a Dolce and Gabana store. It’s the high street and shops on both sides of the long street beckon on you to come and buy expensive goods. Just before them a group of well dressed friends are chatting on the sidewalk.

No one seems to notice him. Acknowledging his presence would awaken the human conscience that results in guilt, so it’s easier to pretend he is not there.

Phil Collins/Genesis (song) “Paradise” comes to mind.

Sadly, I am no different: I walk on in search of the Roma Cathedral.

Sept 3, 2014. 8:40pm.

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