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I starve to not be greedy, on the brink of malnutrition to satisfy others, I'll sacrifice my last to give somebody their first. It seems as if I must die in order for them to thrive. I can't express how I feel for fear of being judged and sanctioned upon, maybe their lives will improve as mine matriculates and ultimately is done. Yet I don't mutter a word, nor do I care to be heard… for no sane sanitary sanctioned senseless soul will spare the time of day, to ask me I they can help me if they may… for I would love the blessing of a helping hand, but my dealt cards tell me that I must walk the road of a lonely man…





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