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Notebook 6b

How does one not know


What it is like to have no home
Never knowing when or were
The next meal will come

As I walk from street to street


The judgmental eyes set on me
Questioning my situtaion
With not knowing my history

There I stand beaten and bruised


Questions about my life and death
What life am I leading to?
Or where do I quit?

Living in poverty is all Ive known


Scrum for scraps, Ive never been full
Those rich-boys will never know
What its like to have no home

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