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He took a walk and heard a voice,
The asphalt whispered to him,
They go over me each day
In their cars; borrowed, rented, slaved for, stolen,
With dreams as vast as the skies,
Telling stories of downtrodden souls,
Driven people, sorrowful eyes
And heroes hidden in everyday clothes,
Oh the tales I could tell.

And then the concrete sidewalk spoke
Of hopes and desires,
Borrowed kisses, whispered promises,
Wide smiles and tight hugs,
Schemes of men and lofty plans,
Kind words spoken to salve a soul,
Bitter ones screamed to break a heart,
Arms outstretched, imploring
See me, hear me.
My pores soaked with tears of joy and pain,
Oh the multitude of feet that daily tread these paths
Each with their tale to tell.

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