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The city seems abandoned So late into the night, As cold rain dances off the bricks I pull my collar tight. The run-off caught in iron grates Embedded in the streets; The water, trapped, then turns to steam And rises on release. I envy that ascension, A street boy comes to feel Like water draining through these pipes Capped by stone and steel. The gangs, the crime, the stoners Will drown me like the rain; I know my dreams will wash away If things like this remain. I stop to watch the mist arise And vanish in the night, And search my soul to find the wings To aid me in my flight. My wits are keen, my body strong; My options I arrange; And education seems to be The means to make the change. With talents, skills, and knowledge Developed as I learn, Death-gripped alleys open to A thousand ways to turn. A siren interrupts my thoughts, The wind calls up a chill; But as the steam keeps rising forth It fires up my will. I'll rise above these city streets With freedom knowledge brings; With learning launching brighter days, I'll grow into my wings.
Wes Stephenson

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