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Poem: Town I live in

The town I live in

Tells many different tales.

There is the working class, which of course never fails

Carrying their lunch boxes to work,

Leaving from their home with the biggest grin

Only to come home very tired

With a kind of angry smirk.

They pass the crowded walls

Which are full of tagging

That seems like its life.

The writers running through trash filled allies.

What you thought I was going to rhyme with life?

Hell no out here in the streets, it’s crazy.

People walking down the streets with eyes kind of hazy.

That’s is the town I live in.

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