A Homeless Writes On The Ballot?
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O the rich Winter comes
Poor Man's eternal enemy?
I have to move from my cardboard house
Nearby the Railway Station.
A hole in my old boot
and a penny stuck in the wallet?
I have to skip fish oil
the doctor prescribed for cholesterol
But I have to fill my miniature empty bottle
with that weather-beaten Elixir?
For decades I just dropped my poor vote
to every Tom, Dick and Harry
But still it's a dream
The handsome politician's usurp Utopia!
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