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jeffarama andy nicholson (Remove filter)

Holocaust ( threads )

Stench filled nostrils flair in the morning light,

as a bundle of rags lay stale, motionless, huddled in plain sight.

Grubby fingers reach out into the gutters larder,

A mirage of a child, it's soul grown harder.

 

Eyes downcast in the drizzling rain,

his head bowed, invisible to their sight,

the thread bare coat shuffles, accepting his plight.

Every bone senses ...

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jeffarama andy nicholson

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