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Written in 1999 by Faithwalker, aka Jeff Strong
Here I lie under the dock of a warehouse
Huddled, wrapped in plastic gleaned from a dumpster
The cold east wind assails my hiding place.
Hunger gnaws at my body for I have no money for food;
The frozen rain dangles from the planks above me as translucent teeth;
How did I get here?
Cold! so very cold, but I will survive,
For I will not forfeit my life with out a fight.
The shelters are full and I was late for the missions meal;
So I lay under the dock clinging to what warmth I can, and wait;
For the ‘morrow and another day.
People creep by in their heated chariots
Others scurry to the bus;
All are headed for the warmth of home and hearth and hot food and laughter and a warm bed.
And for this I do hope……

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