Cold night

January 9, 2017

The cold wind
Briskly strikes his jacket
As he sits on the grate
Wondering where
His next meal will come from
Or if it’ll come at all
Thousands pass by
And don’t bat an eye
At society’s weak
They see someone poor
And don’t want to be sure
That we haven’t got things right
So walk on by
And keep living the lie
That we got it right
This time

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