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Editing Instructions
Please note in the NOTES textbox below that this poem has been edited, do
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Drifting....
17:09:2014....
Drifting aimlessly.
Scavenging in rubble shamelessly.
Some because they have no choice.
With no reason to rejoice.
Others just want to be alone.
For a pillow use a stone.
A bush for shelter.
Neither have a protector.
This must be a harsh existence.
They endure resistance.
Yes we in society.
That think we are so high and mighty.
We look down on the humble beggar.
Only worrying about our ledger.
Leaving him to fend off the hardship.
And we have a bountiful harvest.
Is this what man has become?
That we're too selfish to offer a crumb.
RR
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