Men, to the prone man
Descended from an unknown door
Torn in the roof,
Improvised (all plans are) by restive friends
Looking, it may be,
To dump the burden that extends
Past action that at first was undertook,
One hopes, out of love.
What they felt then, released, the book
Doesn’t tell us.
His need for healing, the man disappears,
But not before he’s
Forgiven all, which many ears
Hear, no single