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December Skin

With no hat and no shoes,
December air nips at uncovered pink skin,
Passing cars, beeping horns,
These soundless wind gusts bring frigid cold, shaking her to the core,

Moments are few,
A cardboard box, dirty news paper, a ragged tarp covers her from the storms,
As ice cold fingers run against the dirty hole filled blanket,
Big, dull blue eyes, watch winter bring hunger to snowy streets,

She feels the pain of wanton death,
But shunning him is her past time,
With a pure heart, she pushes away the grave!





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