When I’van it to
the laurel race,
a faint smile breaks
across my face.
It isn’t need or greed
those thoughts might impede
my sheer joy at merely
quitting town.
I’ve learned the
craft from memory–
instinct has joined in.
It’s not the profit
When I’van it to
the laurel race,
a faint smile breaks
across my face.
It isn’t need or greed
those thoughts might impede
my sheer joy at merely
quitting town.
I’ve learned the
craft from memory–
instinct has joined in.
It’s not the profit
Issues |Art
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We believe ending homelessness begins with listening to the stories of those who have experienced it.
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