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My
Poor People
The
morning will drag it self up the walls Long
walls with no ending It
is the usual way: Boots
cracking in the dark hall Innocent
people dying for nothing at all There
only crime is wishing to be free But
the officer says: “you can be a slave for me.” How
long they have been there they don’t know But
all the time they have been thinking of the questions bellow How
is my sick wife? Did she die! How
are my children? Can I ever say goodbye! Will
a day come that I will be free Setting with my family having a cup of tea Going
to friends and having fun Walking
down the street without fear from a gun But! They
all know this is not possible any more They just pray for a day better then before Written
By: MeJ
in
2001
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