p.79

linger
on and on,
and as I recognize this
I only wish for the rain to continue,
as the harsh wind
rushes
through the streets
beating bitter the faces of those who are not
noticing
and those who are,
for there is no difference, between a young girl in an
alley
lighting a cigarette,
the boy who had his
heart broken
by his love,
and the woman who lives on the street,
as they are all
day by day
hoping their luck will turn around.

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