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Rated: E · Poetry · Experience · #1913638
It is my grandmother's voice I heard when I wrote this. She was a real character.
It used to be most folks
was poor.
Now it seems most
be rich.
Was once the cracks
were wide
And swallowed up
whole towns.
Easy to see, hard to step
around.
Now, most the town
don't see
a tiny crack a few folks
fall in.
No one knows they gone.
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