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The Street Kid
When sun rises
His only eye closes
Paining from his wrinkled belly
He feeds from his sleep only
Homeless from his first breath
Fearless and prone to death
What he hopes is a viva
From leftovers under the table
Next light he'll be died
Not from cursing him
But the base of his hope
Leftovers're meant for dogs.
© Juju
His only eye closes
Paining from his wrinkled belly
He feeds from his sleep only
Homeless from his first breath
Fearless and prone to death
What he hopes is a viva
From leftovers under the table
Next light he'll be died
Not from cursing him
But the base of his hope
Leftovers're meant for dogs.
© Juju
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