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DEPRIVED NIGERIAN CHILD
Slowly he rolls the tyre,
to and fro,
with his pants on,
Laughing with his other
counterparts,
His dirty pants,
Shown in the noon,
Like a rag,
He saw his mother,
And shouted,
Mother!
Where is my father?
Where did he go?
when will he come back?
When will i wear a shirt?
When will i sleep on a bed?
When will there be light?
Where will there be water
from our taps?
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