I come from a place
I could never call my own,
It had a window and a door,
A bed, with a rug on the floor.
There’s a woman that gave birth to me
And many, many more,
There’s the stench of liquor in the air,
I’m sure I reek of poverty,
But not for long...
I read, I write, I learn,
It’s decency I yearn;
A home,
With a window and a door,
Filled with love
And much, much more!
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