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| Is this the way home? |
I once lived in Barely-There
In the middle of Nowhere Street
With nothing much to shout about
And even less to eat
The visitors from Richly-Ville
With luggage bags gold lined
Blamed the passing by our way
We alley cats had undermined
Us prisoners of Poverty-Born
By coincidence not choice
In needy times unneeded
By the wealthy loudest voice
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