Least Poem

December 1, 2010
Dirt floors, cement walls
The air is filled with the smell
Of old potato skins and banana peels,
And they fill the streets.
The lowest in society,
Jumping up and down for joy.

A dark ally in New York City,
The smell of human waste
Is throughout.
I see a man living in a
Water soaked cardboard box.
His smile lights up the ally.

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