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Jan 2012
The hungry,
the sick
&
tired.
The lost,
battered,
beaten,
&
starved.

The streets sweat themselves clean
again & again
until
there is no
place
for a heart.

The forgotten - to be.
I see
them.
Everywhere.
Their faces
pass me
like an airliner
to a
bus.

Something grand will be crashing
and dwindlng in size
learning how
to live
with different sets
of eyes.
Nicholas James Berlincourt
464
 
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