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May 2018
Brown, peeling rubber soles on big feet
Crunch crunch, the gravel and glass goes underfoot
The overcast gloom of the early morning.
Depressed and downhearted buildings lining the streets.
Weeds encircling the gardens like a dragon looming over its prey.
Flowers hanging their heads, gravely.

Smudged faces, dark purple eyes, gaunt complexion, another restless night for these children.
Bruises up and down each leg.
Trodden, broken. β€œNot good enough” ringing in their ears.
Dreary faces, ripped uniforms.

The school building silhouetted against the grey, emotionless sky.
β€œLine up in rows, nice and neat”
They would hear this repeated for the rest of their lives.
A zebra crossing worn and battered.

Cigarettes passed from frail, wrinkled, hopeless hands.
Hooked on 4 a day at the age of 13
The wind groaned through the yard.
Somber faces, with wide eyes awaiting an education.

Pale arms and legs bristling in the playground.
Teachers thinking the sun has set on their dreams.
The corporations rubbing their hands, stamping their boots.
Another day at school now, but do they have a future?
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