Who Cries For Me?

This is a true story.

Photo by Sean Benesh on Unsplash

I died on 9th Street and St. Clair.
Please let me tell you how I got there.

Raised in poverty of an immigrant pair,
I was one of ten children with not much to share.

By day Papa worked hard but by night drank like a fish.
Mama was a big woman who could whip anything into a
great dish.

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