Among the deep streets.
When despair for the
world grows within me.
I look to the corners
with the least sound.
There, I see a few with the
way inside them, shining pure.
Picking up a few threads of hope.
Their days never withhold the light.
Like a root, let me say.
They are sure of the way.
And when they sing.
I sing with them.
The moments turn.
The trees move.
And the ordinary,
becomes extraordinary.
Do you see this?
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