The Man Who Stole His Own Reflection

Wearing a black rain coat
Looking like a wet crow
On a leafless branch
Another soulless man
Follows a familiar stench
He stops for a moment
To steal his own reflection
From the putrid water of
A forgotten pothole
Trying to get their share
from what the man stole
Famished rats quickly
gather around
Making only the slightest sound
Their spiked fur emits a potent
green chemical glow
The man feels powerless
Like a hunter with no more
arrows left for his bow
He tries to escape
But his fate is sealed
With the truth he has
Always feared