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It happened twice. I let myself believe. I thought that I might matter. But what I didn’t see. I loved and lost, And was broken eternally.
Fingers too dry to be tainted by cream sugar dripping, held on by a seam. Milk a jumble that's the way the cookie crumbles.
Shit...that's all I could say on the night that my dad made us go different ways. I said it three times as I put on my pants, and he knocked on the window as you pulled out your hand.
When you no longer have shelter, you no longer feel safe. As the cold bites you, all you can say is what did I do? All you can feel is the hunger, seemingly endless. And all those people just stare at you
A Cent More "Spare some change" so common a phrase among those sitting on the sidewalk Who are they? They are the poor
They are the people who walk the streets at night looking for shelter. They are the people who go up to you and ask for money, just to buy food. But do we really notice them?
Fear NOT for his half beaten sorrows nor the lint in his pockets. Fear NOT for his lackadaisical manner nor his lacking of sole. Oh, fear Not for the fool who falls on hard time or walks along cracks and smiles in the rain.