Already feels dry my tears. Too much was spilled. Crying lamenting my bad luck. Bad luck a homeless person. Sky as the roof of my house. And the earth as a floor. I live down the step street. The rest of the people I eat. Sky as the roof of my house. And the earth as a floor. My life down the road. The rest of the people I eat. The bridge became a refuge. From the scorching sun and rain. That’s fate I’m experiencing. Who knows how long I live like this?

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