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Poem: The Predicament Of A Migrant Laborer

The man was still walking

On the sun-drenched asphalt.

Inside his empty belly, 

Was a torturous hunger;

A hunger which dizzied him;

A hunger which knew no bounds,

Painfully penetrating into its victim’s body.

He still walked

In search of a place,

Where he no longer has to excruciatingly hear

The stifled shrieks of hunger.

But hunger finally sapped him of his strength

There he lay, forsaken

On the heated asphalt  

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