Another grain of sand.
under a sky without stars tonight there is no for the Seine we live sunk in the shit, but we are happy with the little we have, poverty is in the mind always have to look at the front we are, the forgotten, the banished we are, those people who in the day but dark Ro light a smile, breeze caresses us, is gone withered, flower of life that does not warn when death visits, strict daily routine, keep calm still there is hope of,
fly without wings.
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From @jesussanchez