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Broke
Like a wiper blade, I wipe sweat from my brow.
The blazing sun sends beggars bundling around street corners like stray dogs.
Beaming like a lighthouse the bank beckons the business-type.
The lighthouse is filled with anxious borrowers.
Each one hopeful about making it big off someone else�s buck.
Contemplative creditors more reluctant to let go of the cash.
H.Lule
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