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He is still
like a painting in a window.
The midday traffic passes him by,
as he sits there quivering day in and day out.
Horrified, hungry, scared
just sitting there no where to go.
The night begins to trap him,
exhausted his eyelids close.
Day. He hears a voice of hope,
he sees a gentle hand reach out.
Confused from the hunger
he attempts to make noise.
He sees a friend.
He is found and hugged in relief

brotherdayabc

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