May 5, 2009
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Walking under the lonely street lamp’s orange glow
Casey anxiously looks for something, anything to help her through the night
She shoves newspapers down her shirt
And rubs her small fingers together
She picks through garbage and finds an old piece of bread
And she snatches it from the can before the birds can get to it
She finds small comfort in an old wool blanket
Trying to fight the cold
She takes small sips of rainwater from a sharp rusty can
Then she tries to find a place to spend the night
A nook or cranny to fall into
Casey looks up to a window on a second-floor apartment
Where she can see a girl
Lying in a warm soft bed
Under a large green quilt
Taking small sips of tap water from a clean new glass
As she looks, Casey cries
She whimpers in the darkness
Wishing to be that girl

In her bed the girl hears Casey
She listens for a moment
And then reaches over to a radio, turning the volume up

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