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It's Not the Earth That has Given up
He sat jingling the dull coins in a cup.
“Please”, he called, “The great world’s given’ me up”.
I looked down as to not hold his eye.
He shook his head, “I cannot figure out why.”
He searched his thinking mind for an answer.
“All I wanted was to be without cancer.”
An old woman who sat around the bend,
Piped in with, “just wanted my hand to mend.”
Next was a young little boy, who cried,
“Just wished my father hadn’t died.”
Then they all spoke in unison together:
“If only the world had treated me better.”
They asked and asked and wondered,
As by and by the crowd thundered.
“If only the Earth hadn’t decided to give up on me.”
But deep there is something they do not see.
As with terror or grief their minds swirled,
Like a train off a track, they had given up on the world.
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