
In shadowed streets, whispers awaken,
Forgotten folks, fate's forsaken.
Hidden hearts, hopes hang low,
In the city's silence, their stories flow.
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Beneath bridges, quiet cries,
Lost lives under open skies.
Muted murmurs, in the moon's glow,
Tales untold, in the night's echo.
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Alley anthems, softly sung,
Silent struggles, on their tongues.
Life's leftovers, lingering long,
In hushed hymns, their hidden song.
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Sidewalk souls, in steps unseen,
Invisible in the in-between.
Quiet quests, quests unquenched,
In the margins, lives entrenched.
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Park bench prophets, preaching pain,
Life's lessons, in loss and rain.
Muffled memories, in mind's maze,
Forgotten faces, in the haze.
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Streetlight stories, flickering faint,
Canvas cities, paint their plaint.
Empty cries in the air,
Burning barrels everywhere.
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Corner choirs, chorus clear,
Voices void, yet so near.
Whispered winds, in the willows,
Life's leftovers, on their pillows.
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So hear the whispers, soft and slight,
In day's dazzle, in night's night.
Listen close, to the tales untold,
In the whispers is where their stories unfold.