November 19, 2009
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Every night I look at the stars
Gazing from my cardboard bed
The sounds of cars whizzing by fill my head
Everyday I push my cart of belongings,
And I scour for scraps in dumping sights
People give we looks of sorrow, disgust and dispair,
I used to be one of those people,
Before I lost my house, job and my life>
Everyday I think about what could have boon
If I had been more careful, considerate, cautious
Would I still be living without a house?
Would I still get glares and stares that fill the air?

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