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His voice rumbled from the buzzing wind,
A peach of laughter from a frowning mind;
I turned to gasp at least a view,
But couldn't pierce through the foggy crew.

Harmattans bloom gloom doom through a zoom,
Until at last the stalking dust gave room,
And her face collapsed through the dusty tide
And behold, a beggar child cried!

"Gud morin, food money!" She plead'
There surfaced five more boys on her lead
From tattered clothes twelve desperate eyes,
Knelt before me from hopeless miles.

My heart couldn't but break and rile
For the team 'n' girl with such a boyish smile.

Style / type: 
Structured: Western
Review Request (Intensity): 
I want the raw truth, feel free to knock me on my back
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Editing stage: 
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