The child passed by my seat with empty palms And begged for love to fill its soulful eyes. For 'twas not hunger nor the need for alms That left the waif so piteous in guise. She had her home, if four walls and a roof Was all the meaning she should yet require; But in that place all hearts remained aloof, A negligence deserving of all ire. She stood in place; I stood and turned my face.
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