“Scruple” derives from scrupŭlus, small stone. If you get a stone in your shoe, you’ll be uncomfortable. Today scruples make you hesitate when confronted with a moral choice.
I saw the doors closing behind me: military green, school green, hospital green doors. My two friends stayed behind, smiling and wishing me good luck. If you had told me I’d never see the girl again, I wouldn’t have believed you.
This poem is halfway between David Allen and Charles Bukowski.
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