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No Home

Man with no home, where are you at? I brought food to where you once sat. "Here I Am!" A voice spoke free and bold, "By this old bin, dead from the cold" I was shocked to find him there, his corpse lie froze, with a death stare. At first, I wept at his sad fate, then grew mad that I was too late. "Weep not" he said. "You loved and tried, There are those who are glad that I died." "My soul flies free and sings a song, my shell lies cold, to right an old wrong." For the One to One, one syllable poem contest.

Copyright © | Year Posted 2013

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Date: 1/10/2013 6:24:00 AM
Christopher, well it but a bit home. - oxox // Anne-Lise :)
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Christopher Bunton
Date: 1/12/2013 12:53:00 AM
Thank you!