The crowded street his playground is, a patch of blue his sky;
A puddle in a vacant lot his sea where ships pass by:
Poor little orphan boy of five, the city smoke and grime
Taint every cooling breeze he gets throughout the summer time;
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My goodness I love this... Thank you Lord for blessing Edgar with the gift to touch lives with his words. God Bless your soul Edgar....... =Shelley=